


The Forsaken Knights

by SWGoji2001



Series: Star Wars: Knights of the Fallen Order [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 00:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21508264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWGoji2001/pseuds/SWGoji2001
Summary: Ahsoka Tano had always known what to do and where to go, until she was betrayed. Now alone, seemingly forgotten by a galaxy that doesn't seem to care about her, a chance encounter with a smuggler gives her a new purpose. But, with a galactic war still raging, Ahsoka and her new partner realize they can't outrun their fights, both internal and external.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/Original Character(s)
Series: Star Wars: Knights of the Fallen Order [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550293
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	1. Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written on fanfiction.net. I'm uploading all my stories here on AO3 as well. 
> 
> This story was requested by the core of justice (account on fanfiction.net). Basic plotline and certain characters were created by the core of justice. Other characters, details, and the writing of this story has been done by myself: SWGoji2001.
> 
> Enjoy!

> _“Take the greatest Jedi Knight, strip away the Force, and what remains? They rely on it, depend on it, more than they know. Watch as one tries to hold a blaster, as they try to hold a lightsaber, and you will see nothing more than a woman - or a man. A child.” Kreia_

* * *

Nar Shaddaa: known as the Vertical City; the Smuggler’s Moon; Little Coruscant or derisively as Little Slugland. Like the capital of the Republic, it was completely covered in urban city sprawl, yet unlike Coruscant, which was only relatively rundown and dangerous on the lower and under levels of the world city, Nar Shaddaa was filthy, polluted, and infested with crime everywhere. At least Nar Shaddaa was honest. One knew that it was a cesspool of scum and villainy, while Coruscant was a shell of beauty that concealed its true nature. It was almost like the Republic itself. Corruption was rampant in the Republic, but the Senate tried to hide it under a gilded shell of prosperity.

Perhaps that was why some people decided to live or work there for the Hutts. At least with the Hutts you knew they were going to kill you. The Republic made promises, then stabbed you in the back when they couldn’t keep them, which was most of the time. Yet for a place filled with such vile characters, Nar Shaddaa was also the most important financial and trading center of Hutt Space. To those who could feel the Force, the contrast was even more stark. It was said that never was there another place so alive with the Force, yet so dead to it.

It was not uncommon to hear blaster fire or the cries of those being robbed. It was a normal way of life on the Smuggler’s Moon. The powerful ruled the weak. It was for that reason that no one looked up as a young togruta ran down alleys and pathways, trying to lose those who pursued her. If she couldn’t win on her own, then she was weak, and had no place here.

Nobody watched with much interest as she fired blindly behind her, running in any way that was open. Nobody came to her rescue when she was trapped between two different gangs that wanted her. Nobody aided her in the ensuing firefight, and nobody tried to save her as she fell over the walkway railing, falling down and down towards the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa.

* * *

Far below the chaos of above, a lone human prepared a freighter for departure. He had been given clearance to leave, his checklist completed, everything was loaded, especially that which was not on the manifest.

The Clone Wars spanned the entire galaxy, and people had suffered, even those who were not involved in the fighting. The battles between the Republic and Separatists shifted and disrupted trade routes, impeded the transport of vital goods, and created the opening for black markets.

Openings that allowed people like Zyon Vastor to find some purpose in the galaxy. A spot where he could escape his past and make enough credits to keep his ship running, with a little something on the side.

Zyon was the only one on his ship. He had no crew. He liked it that way. Getting close to anyone meant that you would eventually confide in them, and Zyon had no intentions in anyone knowing his secrets. Of course there were _some_ who knew, but he had left them behind a couple years ago.

He was a part of a crew once, a _family_ , but that was in the past. He now worked for the Hutts. The Hutts, as much as he loathed working for them, didn’t care about his past or his age. He did the jobs they gave him, delivered their cargo, and got them their money.

Engines were primed and all systems were go for departure, when a Zyon looked up sharply. There was something, a feeling in the back of his head, that told him something was about to happen. Something important. Looking up through the windshield of his Corellian freighter, Zyon saw something falling towards his landing pad. 

With a resounding crash, he saw the shape crash into a few crates nearby and he bolted out of his cockpit seat. Cautiousness getting the better of him, Zyon pulled out his blaster, but that feeling told him that there was no danger from whatever this was. Cautiously, Zyon lowered the boarding ramp of his freighter and approached, moving a couple crates out of the way, before he gasped.

In the mangled wreckage of the crates, lay a face-down, comatose, badly injured person. An arm and a leg were bent at unnatural angles and a small pool of blood had formed around the person. He rolled her body over and his eyes widened at the sight. Before him was a beautiful young female togruta. Her beauty was marred by the cuts and lacerations on her body, and the blackened crater of skin where a blaster bolt had impacted on her body. If she wasn’t treated soon, she would die. 

Making a split-second decision, Zyon gently picked up her broken body and carried it up the ramp of his freighter.

* * *

She was floating alone. In the void. Darkness surrounding her.

Everything was going wrong. She lost her mark and had been betrayed… _again!_ She was a failure at being a bounty hunter. She couldn’t bring herself to kill someone for credits, but what else could she do? And now that they knew she was a former Jedi, everyone was after her!

Taking a turn, the togruta had immediately known it was the wrong one. She had found herself exposed, out on a walkway with two exits: where she just came from with the Exchange chasing her, and the other side where thugs from the Hutt Cartel had cut her off. Everyone was after her! The lead Exchange thug, a Rodian, had hailed her as he rounded the corner, speaking in his native tongue. _ <You! Little Jedi! You surrender to us, huh? You have good fun with us!> _

She turned away from him to see the lead thug from the Hutt Cartel, a large male Twi’lek, leering at her as he muscled his way through the crowd. One of the humans by the Twi’lek had said, “A Jedi slave would please the master well, wouldn’t she?”

“Especially those who get to _condition_ her.” They had all laughed and the togruta had looked desperately for a way out. A few weeks ago and this would have been no problem for her. She could have cut them down or evaded them with ease. But the Force seemed to have fled from her, and all she held was a small blaster pistol.

This is Ahsoka Tano:

A seventeen year old togruta who has seen much more bloodshed and violence than those twice and maybe thrice her age. A warrior without her weapon, whose trust and faith in everything, even herself, has been shaken. She had been so much: Jedi Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic. A Commanding Officer of the 501st Legion. Jedi Padawan to the Chosen One himself: Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear, the most powerful Jedi of his generation, perhaps the most powerful there will ever be.

Yet now she is none of that. She has left all that behind.

She is alone, abandoned, away from the support she used to enjoy and take for granted. Her people aren’t meant to be alone. Togruta rely on each other to defeat the massive akul on their homeworld of Shili. Likewise, Ahsoka could always rely on her family when faced with trouble. Her clone brothers-in-arms. Her master and his former master. Her fellow Jedi. 

Ahsoka’s heart aches when she thinks of Anakin and his Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Walking away from the Temple, how she wanted to turn and run into her master’s arms! Return to the battlefield alongside Rex and Fives. But she pushes those thoughts aside. She left that life behind. She can’t rely on them now. She can’t even rely on the Force.

Only herself.

A dangerous place for a togruta to be. And a dark sinister voice in her head whispers _Can you even trust herself?_ The only work she could find here on Nar Shaddaa was that of a bounty hunter, but she’s not like Ventress or Fett or Embo or any of the other bounty hunters around. She can’t bring herself to pull the trigger when needed, and few on this planet are willing to surrender. She knows they deserve it, but killing sentients isn’t like killing battle droids. The feeling of taking another’s life is not one any Jedi wants to feel.

But she isn’t a Jedi anymore, so why should it matter? For some reason though, it still does.

That is why she was running. She couldn’t bring herself to kill an unarmed target, and they fought back, and in the process, had revealed her past, and, no matter how much she wanted to leave the past behind, it would not escape her. Nar Shaddaa was a haven for all kinds of scum, and a lone Jedi, a lone _female_ Jedi, was a tempting prize.

She ran, and ran, screaming within her head to the Force to help her. But the Force did not answer. Her use of it had drained her greatly, but for a simple task to do so? The Force had fled from her and left her alone.

Truly alone.

She had turned from side to side, searching desperately for a way out. Anakin would have just killed them all, they were all probably slavers, and he _hated_ slavers. Obi-Wan would have some smart comment to inject some humor into the situation, chiding her for letting herself be cornered, and would have tried to talk his way out, but often made as much a mess as Anakin. She used to fall somewhere in the middle, but that version of herself is gone. If she had her lightsabers, she could have escaped. If she had the Force, easy. If her master was here, she wouldn’t have had to do anything. But all she has is this small, useless blaster.

 _ <Come with us, little Jedi! You have much fun with us!> _ The Rodian squeaked, gesturing to the men behind him. _ <We show you a good time!> _

“Not so fast,” the Twi’lek yelled, “His Magnificence Glorba the Hutt runs Nar Shaddaa. The Jedi is ours.”

The Rodian laughed, his head bristles twitching, _ <Exchange not cowed by you! We stronger than Hutts. We do what we want.> _

Some of the other thugs behind the Rodian yelled, “The Jedi is our prize!” “Yeah!”

The display had disgusted Ahsoka. She was not some prize to be won! But then again, she was alone on Nar Shaddaa, and nobody would care if the beautiful young togruta did not want to end up either a slave of a Hutt or the property of the Exchange. All she would be was a body to be paraded or sold or used for money. She had once thought the Republic stood against such sordid lifestyles, but it was corrupt to its core. The Jedi as well.

A firefight had broken out between the two gangs, with Ahsoka caught in the middle. She had hit the deck, rolling into a crouch, before looking around, trying to find some sort of cover. Several civilians had been hit and killed in the crossfire, as were some of the thugs.

Ahsoka had ran to a vendor’s stall, trying to escape the deadly spray of plasma, but she was too slow. A blaster bolt had caught her in the chest, and she had stumbled, before tumbling over the guard railing. She fell. 

And fell.

And fell.

She saw things as she fell. Her fighting a red lightsaber-wielding Zabrak. A farming world burning. A ship blowing apart from the inside over a red planet. A savage duel on the bridge of a warship. A Mandalorian warrior wielding a dark blade against a figure wielding a red lightsaber. Bits and pieces of images that appeared and disappeared over and over again too fast for her mind to comprehend, but through it all, there was one thing: A dark-skinned human male. She tried to piece together what it could mean, but she could feel like she was slowing. Pinpricks of light pierced the veil of shadow that fogged her mind, blinding her from the rest of the images that assaulted her brain. She reached out for the light, clawing for it and clutching whatever strands of it she could.

And through this battle of dark and light, she heard a voice, faint at first, but steadily growing until it drowned out all other sound. Yet, she could not determine who it was: herself, the dark human, Anakin, or someone else entirely.

All it said was, “Wake up.”

* * *

Ahsoka woke to a cold and sticky feeling against her skin. Her ears were ringing. She tried to breathe in, but felt a cold, foul tasting liquid fill her mouth and nose. She recognized it. Kolto. Despite being less effective than bacta, it was useful stuff, but being submerged in a kolto tank was probably one of the most nauseating experiences in the galaxy.

She flailed around and the sensors in the tank picked it up, realizing she had come to. The tank drained and the glass in front of her lowered, letting Ahsoka tumble out. Her legs were momentarily useless, resulting in her falling flat onto her face. By far, not one of the agile togruta’s greatest moments. 

She tried to push herself up, but her strength had drained. Ahsoka simply lay on the ground, shivering, as kolto glued her eyes shut when she blinked. She thought she might have gone to sleep for a bit.

She was awoken by the sound of footsteps and she managed to prop herself on her elbows and knees. Rocking back, she found she was able to sit up and looked around at her surroundings. She was in the medbay of a ship. It was small, but functional, with the kolto tank in the corner that she was just released from. She knew then that whoever owned this ship was not the richest man in the world, or else they would have bacta tanks instead of kolto.

The footsteps neared her, and Ahsoka pulled herself up, leaning against the table. She spotted a nearby surgical tool, grabbing it as a weapon. The fact that she was alive meant that whoever had found her didn’t want her dead, but that wasn’t necessarily good. They might be like the Exchange or the Hutts, who wanted her as a slave.

A shadow came around the corner and it was quickly followed by whoever cast it. Ahsoka stared ahead of her, raising her makeshift weapon in defense. The person came into the doorway and noticed her, “Oh good. You’re awake.”

Standing before Ahsoka was a young human male, maybe about 19 or 20 years old. He had dark skin, about the same color as Master Windu, and short, black hair. The strange thing was that he bore an uncanny resemblance to the human who she saw in her visions. “Who are you?” She asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

They were at an impasse and the human shrugged, “Name’s Zyon, I’m the owner of this ship.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, “And who might you be?”

He hadn’t given her much more to work with. For all she knew, this Zyon might be a smuggler, a separatist, or a slaver. She knew it would be unwise to reveal her name, her true identity, as she also suspected ‘Zyon’ was an alias. “Ashla. I’m a mechanic who ran into some trouble on Nar Shaddaa. How did I get here?”

“Seems like some pretty big trouble for a simple mechanic.”

“Let’s just say some thugs saw a pretty young female and decided to make advances on her.”

Zyon nodded, “Nar Shaddaa’s a rough place. I try to avoid it whenever possible.” He cocked his head, noting her condition, “You feeling alright?”

“Yeah.” Ahsoka said, wincing as she did, “Okay, maybe not.”

“Miracle you survived.” Zyon said, “You fell quite a bit from wherever onto my landing pad. Couple crates broke your fall, and your arm and leg. I brought you onboard and let the kolto do the work.”

“Why not bacta?”

“Too expensive.”

“Ahh.” Ahsoka said, sliding back down to the floor. “Why?”

“Excuse me?” Zyon seemed to be momentarily taken aback by the question.

“Why did you save me? You don’t know anything about me.”

Zyon shrugged, “You needed help. And Nar Shaddaa is no place for a young woman.” He grabbed a bag by the door, “Here, you might want these.” He reached into the bag and tossed her her spare pair of clothes that she carried. It suddenly dawned on her that the reason she was so cold was because she was in her under layer. And a large part had been cut away over her stomach, where she had been hit by a blaster bolt.

Ahsoka blushed furiously and her arms slid to cover herself, even though nothing was on display. Zyon looked somewhat bashful, “I’m sorry, you needed the kolto tank if you were to live.” He held his hands up in a placating gesture, “I did all I could to protect your modesty.”

Ahsoka could feel her montrals darken with embarrassment and nodded, “Err… thanks? I guess?”

Zyon turned his back as she dried herself off and dressed, putting the scalpel down in order to do so. Ahsoka found it odd, he had left himself open to attack from a person he didn’t know. She could have easily lunged at him, killed him, and stole his ship. Yet he left himself open to attack, and his relaxed posture meant he didn’t fear any attempt from her. Almost as if he’d know if she made a move. He spoke, “Why were you carrying a spare pair of clothes anyways though?”

She responded without thinking, “That bag has everything I own. I don’t have a home of my own.”

“But you’re a mechanic, right?”

 _Fierfek!_ Ahsoka mentally swore, reverting to the language she sometimes heard the clones use. “Was a mechanic.” She responded, “Lost my job because of the Hutts.”

“I see.”

Ahsoka quickly slipped out of the kolto-drenched clothes she wore and into her other dry pair of clothes. “So what now? Where are we?”

“You’re welcome to stay as long as it takes for you to heal. We’re on Rishi right now and I’ve got a few more stops to make. After I’m done, if you’re healed, I can drop you wherever you want.”

* * *

Zyon left Ashla in the medbay as he strode to the cockpit. Something in the back of his mind bothered him. This wasn’t like him. He hadn’t been this way since before…

No.

He refused to think of that. He wouldn’t. Not yet.

But why had he helped the young togruta. It was obvious that she was hiding stuff from him. He had seen on the holonet an Exchange bounty for a young togruta that fit Ashla’s description. A _Jedi?_ Not likely. No self-respecting Jedi in their right mind would be working as a bounty hunter on Nar Shaddaa, the armpit of the galaxy. More likely, she was a fallen Jedi or a former one, like… No. His mind would not go there. Not anymore. Not until he was ready.

An uneasy thought washed over him. Was she a spy? One of the Jedi Order’s fabled Jedi Shadows sent to track him down? 

No. She was too badly injured to have been a Jedi Shadow, and he hadn’t found a lightsaber anywhere on her or in her belongings. Besides, it wasn’t like the Jedi would send an assassin to kill him. They had probably forgotten all about him.

Even if she was, he could have easily turned Ashla over. Her stance with the scalpel, albeit clumsy from her recent kolto bath, indicated a high level of martial arts, perhaps Teras Kasi. Or maybe the Echani? She was clearly dangerous, and probably lethal when fully healthy. 

And he had helped her.

Stuck out his neck for her.

This was new for him. Zyon had spent the last couple years not caring about anyone but himself. He had turned his back on countless atrocities committed by the Hutts, countless slave girls ripped from the arms of their parents to be sold to the highest bidder to commit unspeakable acts. It was moments like that that showed him that perhaps the Separatists were the good guys. The Republic, for all it’s claims of being just and righteous, had turned their backs on these people.

But for some reason, he had helped this girl Ashla, all because of a feeling in the back of his head?

It had never been wrong before.

Besides, he could see why the Hutts and Exchange wanted her. She was extraordinarily pretty, shorter than him but that was to be expected from a younger togruta. Her montrals were still somewhat short, indicating that she was still maturing. Her clothes were scuffed and worn, indicating that what she had said was true, they were all she owned. 

Her blaster was lightly used, unlike his, indicating that she had only had it for a short time. It was a relatively cheap model, meaning that she was poor and it was all she could afford, or steal. But why would a mechanic have a blaster? Odd.

Her hands had also shown considerable wear with multiple small scars and calluses, as if she had fought many, many times. But they weren’t on the outside of her fingers and knuckles, as would be expected for a street fight, they were on the inside of her hands. This meant she fought with a blade. 

But which type? A staff? A spear? An axe? Vibroknives? Vibroblades? 

Lightsaber? 

Probably that one. But where was it? Zyon didn’t know. Yet another question to add to the ever-growing list of questions about the togruta who called herself Ashla.

So why had he saved her? Zyon couldn’t answer. Somehow, he knew that their fates would be interconnected from that moment on. It might not be the worst thing in the world. Ashla certainly wasn’t bad to look at.

* * *

Ahsoka finished cleaning herself up in the refresher, and gazed at her appearance in the mirror. Her injuries had healed, with a few faint scars all that remained. They would join the older ones, the scars of war that marr the beauty and innocence of youth.

Zyon had almost finished his delivery run, with only one stop left before he would take her to whatever place she wished to go. But where would she start anew? She didn’t know.

She could go back home to Shili, to her people’s homeworld, but she knew no one there anymore. She could go to Onderon, to see Lux and Saw, but that would only bring back memories of her days as Commander Tano. Memories of her failure to save Steela, one of the few times she had failed to save someone.

Zyon had left a couple minutes ago to make his delivery, and Ahsoka hated waiting around. As a warrior, she used to be thrilled by the high-octane moments of combat, preferring it to downtime waiting for combat to find her. She often became impatient, and used that boredom to repeatedly prank and annoy Anakin and Rex. She smiled fondly at those moments.

But those days are all gone.

Making a choice, Ahsoka took her blaster and a pair of macrobinoculars and strode down the ramp of Zyon’s ship. She wanted to see what he did during his so-called “deliveries”. She wanted to know who he was, what he did, and so many other things. They hadn’t really had any major conversations in the week that he continued to make deliveries, and without the Force, it was hard for her to pick out anything from his actions.

Walking through Taleucema Spaceport, Ahsoka reached out slightly with the Force, trying to sense things around her. She could, but her senses were dimmed. The Dark Side was growing, and Saleucami was suffering from the war. She could faintly feel the deaths of clones as they fought Separatist droids.

Saleucami was a key planet in the Outer Rim Sieges, and savage battles had been fought here ever since Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Adi Gallia had rescued Master Eeth Koth, but failed to apprehend General Grievous a couple years earlier.

Taleucema was still under Separatist control, but Republic forces under General Stass Allie were closing in on the city. Conditions in the city were bad, as the war had devastated Saleucami’s economy. People were starving from shortages of food, but Republic clones were unable to break through Separatist lines to relieve the city.

With some difficulty, she located Zyon. Diverting her course, she found him in a market, talking to a couple Pantorans at a fruit vending stall. The shelves were half-empty, and prices were so high that few could buy whatever was available.

She crept closer, close enough to eavesdrop on them. Zyon opened the crate slightly and she could see the Pantorans’ eyes widen. Zyon said, “You asked, and I got it.”

“Thank you, Captain.” One of the Pantorans, a thin, malnourished male, said, “With these, we can make things right here on Saleucami.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care.” Zyon said, flicking his wrist in a dismissing manner. “Just pay me and I’ll be on my way.” The Pantoran offered him a bag that she assumed was filled with credits.

A commotion came from the entrance of the market as several battle droids forced their way through the crowd. “There they are!” One of them said in its high pitched voice as it pointed at the Pantorans. “Blast them!”

A chorus of “Roger Roger” followed, followed then by a flurry of blaster bolts. Several people were hit and killed instantly.

“Ah kriff.” Zyon said as he kicked over the crate for cover, picking up some of the contents. A high-powered blaster rifle. The Pantorans, who Ahsoka guessed were anti-Separatist rebels, also grabbed some, tossing others to other people in the square.

One slid over to Ahsoka, who recognized it as a DC-15S, one used by many of the clones she had commanded. Despite being around clones who used it regularly, however, Ahsoka was not as skilled with the blaster as she hoped, and her shots weren’t that accurate without the Force to guide her.

Despite her ineptness, the B1 droids were being whittled down by the heavy return fire. One of them tapped the side of its head, “Command. We need reinforcements!”

Soon enough, a squad of heavier B2 Super Battle Droids walked in, alongside a sound that even Ahsoka feared. Sure enough, in behind the B2s rolled several droidekas, which proceeded to unfurl their blasters and fire from the cover of their shield generators.

One of the rebels next to Ahsoka fell from the withering fire, and she noticed that he was carrying a vibroblade. Not her lightsabers, but more familiar to her than a blaster. She also knew that it would work, seeing Hondo Ohnaka cut down countless droids with one on Florrum a little while back.

Darting out of cover, Ahsoka methodically began to thin the numbers of the droids, using her battlefield knowledge to aim for and strike at their weak points, then rolling back under cover as the droids unleashed another hail of fire towards her.

* * *

Meanwhile, Zyon snarled as he took aim at droid after droid. He knew that Ashla had followed him, but he didn’t really care about that. She was a curious girl, and he couldn’t say he blamed her. He hated waiting as well.

What was interesting was the way Ashla took out droid after droid with a vibroblade. She struck fast, using her agility and speed to avoid return fire. It looked almost like the Jedi lightsaber combat Form IV, Ataru. 

The droids focused fire on her position, and Ashla rolled into some cover: the stone wall of a building. Zyon grabbed a grenade from the crate he delivered and threw it at the droids. The EMP, known affectionately to many as a “droid-popper”, deactivated three of the B2 super battle droids, but didn’t affect the droidekas’ shields in the slightest.

Breaking from cover, Zyon opened fire to draw them off of Ashla. Why he did this, he didn’t know. He could have used the distraction of the droids to escape, get to his ship, and leave. Ashla had been foolish enough to get involved, and it wasn’t his job to look after her.

Yet, he slid into cover beside her. “I thought I told you to stay on the ship!”

“I got bored. And I’ve never taken orders well.” Was the casual response.

The droidekas continued to hammer away at them as the rebels picked off the last of the B2s. The rebels had taken severe casualties from both the droidekas and the B2s’ laser cannons and wrist rockets. If they didn’t act now, none of them would escape alive. If Zyon didn’t act.

It wasn’t the hardest choice Zyon ever made, but brought the most repercussions with it. Should he reveal his past? Come to terms with it and embrace it?

Zyon knew the answer to that as Ashla took a blaster bolt to the arm. She cried out in pain and fell back, but so did Zyon. Even though he hadn’t been hit, he still felt the searing pain of a blaster bolt. 

At the same part of his arm as Ashla.

He knew then that this was inevitable. Despite his fear of connecting with others, it had already happened. The Force had made it happen. Reaching deep within, Zyon found the inner power he had hidden for years. The strength that he had concealed from everyone since Haruun Kal. He grasped it, owned it.

And then, he unleashed it.

* * *

Ahsoka clutched her arm as the pain from the blaster bolt coursed through her. The last of the rebels had cut and run, taking whatever salvage from Zyon’s shipment that they could.

But there would be no escape for Ahsoka, nor for Zyon who was crouched beside her.

Ahsoka grit her teeth and shut her eyes. So this was how she would die, unknown and forgotten on a backwater planet. By the time Stass Allie and the 91st Mobile Reconnaissance Corps reached Taleucama, Ahsoka would be nothing but a forgotten corpse in a secluded market square.

Suddenly, she felt a surge of power from near her. She reached out through the Force, but it blinded her and she recoiled from the sheer raw power she felt. The ground shook around her and she could feel a cloud of dust envelop her and Zyon.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Zyon’s face above her. He looked at her arm, “Are you okay?”

It was then that Ahsoka realized that all of the blaster fire had stopped. Zyon helped her sit up, and then stand. She looked around the square, but found only destroyed droids. The droidekas had been crushed by the side of a building that had fallen on them.

“Did I miss something?”

Zyon smiled at her, looking over at the droidekas. “We got lucky. The wall fell on them. Must have been weakened by the battle.”

“I guess.” Ahsoka nodded. But something told her that that wasn’t true. She had felt the Force surge near her. Was it Zyon? Her? Or someone else that had destroyed those destroyer droids? Heh. She had to laugh slightly at that irony.

“Come on.” Zyon said, “We need to leave before more arrive.” He held up a small bag of credits, “I’m not dying before I can spend these.”

But as they walked away from the battlefield, Ahsoka couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. Something big. After the surge of Force energy, Ahsoka noticed that her own connection to the Force had deepened. She was able to sense more things, reach out further. Not as much as she had when she was still a Padawan of the order, but more than her time as a bounty hunter.

Now, with the Force to guide her shots, she was able to fight her way out with Zyon’s help. Droids fell before them as they ran for the dock where Zyon’s freighter stood.

And somehow, she suspected her sudden reconnection to the Force was because of Zyon. She could sense that the Force flowed through him, but that was all. She knew he was Force sensitive, but to what extent had he been trained?

Ahsoka vowed then and there, she would learn. Through any means necessary.

* * *

Zyon maneuvered the freighter out of the spaceport and away from the battle below. The squabbles of the Republic and Separatists didn’t interest him. They were two sides of the same coin.

After the stars had elongated into starlines and then the swirling vortex of hyperspace, Zyon turned to look at Ashla, who stood in the doorway with her arm in a bandage. “You handled yourself well in that fight. Where’d you learn to use a vibroblade like that?”

“My father and brother taught me.” Ashla shrugged as she answered, “They wanted me to be able to defend myself if needed.”

“They did a good job.” Zyon said, and he saw tears well up in Ashla’s eyes after he said that. She must have missed them greatly. “So, where should I drop you off?”

Ashla blinked and the tears were gone, “I don’t know. All my life, I’ve known where I’ve needed to go, but now… I just don’t know.”

Zyon nodded, he understood the feeling. That was why he became a smuggler. He would never be tied down, and could fly away from any trouble he faced. He suspected that was precisely what Ashla needed.

“You’d probably be safer on the move.”

Ashla nodded, knowing that the Exchange and Hutts would still be after her. “I know, but I’m too poor to afford a ship.”

“You know,” Zyon said, not knowing why he was doing this. “It gets lonely being the only one on this ship after a while and you can handle yourself in a fight.” Maybe Zyon had changed in the square and now felt the need for someone else to be in his life. Perhaps it was time that the durasteel walls that he built around himself were torn down.

And, despite his mind and thoughts screaming at him not to do it, he asked a simple question. A question that would change the galaxy forever.

“How would you feel about staying?”


	2. Tatooine

> _“Strength means more than just the ability to use the Force. It means intelligence. Cunning. Ruthlessness.”_ Sirak

* * *

_“How would you feel about staying?”_

Those six words still reverberated through Ahsoka's mind. She had taken Zyon as someone who would forever be alone, who liked to be isolated from everyone.

Apparently not.

It was clear to her that there was something in his past that he regretted deeply. Something that ate at the walls he built around himself. Maybe it had broken through? Maybe whatever he was running from was what drove him to ask for her to stay?

She could see it in his eyes, an emptiness inside him. Zyon covered it well, but she could still see it, and sense it.

Ever since the incident in the market, it was like a veil had been removed from Ahsoka's eyes. Where the Force was once fogged and murky, she could now see clearly, or at least, more clearly. And Ahsoka knew it had something to do with Zyon. She knew the Force flowed through him, as it did all living things, but with him it was different.

In him, it was strong.

In him, it was powerful.

But in him, it was turbulent. It was Dangerous.

Conflict raged within him, that she could tell. The remnants of the light versus his darker, baser instincts. 

So why had Ahsoka chosen to accept his offer and stay on his ship?

It was true what she said… that she had no clue where to go. It was easier when she was Padawan Tano or Commander Tano. She had always been told where to go. A certain room in the temple or the next battlefield. It had always been decided for her.

But now, she had a choice. None of her former masters had ordered her onto Zyon’s ship. She could choose where to go, what to do. It felt… liberating.

She had chosen to stay on Zyon's freighter. She had chosen this.

Although, some part of her knew that she hadn't completely made this choice of her own free will. It is said that the Force has a will, that nothing happens randomly, but that everything happens because of the Force.

It was the Force that brought her and Zyon into contact, and it was the Force that flowed through both of them and had connected them forever.

Ahsoka knew there was a bond between the two of them. It was this bond that increased her connection to the Force. As his strength grew, so would hers. But if he, or she, fell to the darkness, more often than not, so would the other. It was this bond that allowed her to sense the conflict in Zyon.

She didn’t bring it up with him. She didn’t know what his reaction would be. He might kick her off, maroon her, or hell, even shoot her. He didn’t bring it up at all, so neither did she.

Ahsoka just hoped that if the dark did win the struggle in him, that it wouldn't drag her down with it.

* * *

Zyon smoothly piloted the freighter out of hyperspace and towards the dust ball before them. Ashla frowned in the copilot seat. She was dressed in mechanic's clothes, covered in some kind of engine oil or hydraulic fluid or something. She had taken to tinkering with the ship and optimizing systems, for which Zyon was most grateful. It was also nice that she was pulling her own weight and earning her keep. 

“Tatooine? Why the kriff are we out here?”

“You ever been here?” Zyon asked.

Ashla was silent a moment, staring at the sandy desert planet before them, before she spoke. “No.”

Zyon smirked to himself. _Liar._ He thought. That feeling in the back of his head told him so. But he didn't push it, he was hiding a lot worse from her. Well, his past was probably a lot worse than Ashla's. He wasn't a hypocrite like politicians or the…

Nope.

Not going there.

“What do you know about Tatooine?” Ashla asked him.

Zyon smiled to himself. She was trying to cover the fact that she had been here before by appearing ignorant. He decided to play along. “Well, unless you're one of the local or exotic species and end up being slaughtered or enslaved, Tatooine's a nice enough desert. And that's about all I got to say about it.”

Ashla groaned beside him, “So why are we here then?”

Zyon laughed, “As you probably know, Jabba the Hutt reigns supreme here.” He looked over at her and she nodded. “Well, Jabba needs shipments all the time, and a seller contacted me, asking me to ship something to him.” He frowned, a slight feeling of foreboding creeping up on him.

“Ship what?” Ashla asked.

Zyon shrugged, “I don't know. Never asked.”

“And why not?” Zyon almost laughed at the look he got. Ashla was looking at him like he had suddenly turned into a Besalisk or grown a second head or something. “It's none of my business. I just make the delivery. And it has a hefty sum promised, so why not? We need the credits.”

Ashla sighed, “That we do.”

“Don't worry.” He said, even as the feeling of foreboding increased. “This is the way this part of the galaxy works. It'll be a walk in the park.”

At least, he hoped it would be.

* * *

As the freighter settled onto it's landing gear in Ancherhead, Ahsoka looked out the cockpit window to see three sentients and a droid walking towards them. The sentients were all male, one Twi'lek and two Weequays.

Zyon met them at the boarding ramp. “Hello there.” Zyon said as he walked down towards them.

“You Cav'Saran's deliveryman?”

“I am.” Zyon said. “What about it?”

The Twi'lek bowed, “I bring you greetings from his Magnificence, Jabba the Hutt. Most Exalted Jabba sent us to escort you to his palace.”

Zyon nodded, “Give Jabba my thanks. But I'd prefer to make the transaction here, we have another delivery to make.”

The Twi'lek frowned, “We?”

Ahsoka could her Zyon slap his forehead, “Sorry. Ashla!”

Ahsoka walked down the ramp, wiping engine grease from her hands. “Yes? What is it?”

Zyon turned back to the Twi'lek, “My crewmate and mechanic, Ashla.”

The Twi'lek grinned and looked her up and down, “My, my. What's a pretty girl like you doing as a mechanic?”

Ahsoka suppressed a groan. She should have expected this from a Hutt thug. Zyon stepped in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “That doesn't matter. Please give Jabba our regards, but we must be going if we are to stay on schedule.”

The Twi'lek sighed, “But to not accept Glorious Jabba's invitation would be an insult to him, and my Master does not take insults to well.”

Zyon sighed, “If we must, then we will accept.” Ahsoka agreed. Jabba had once tried to kill her and Anakin because he believed he had been double crossed, and it was only through Senator Amidala’s timely intervention that a bloodbath had been avoided.

 _I wonder what Padme's been up to._ Ahsoka thought.

The Twi'lek clapped his hands together in glee. “Excellent! I will inform Exalted Jabba to prepare festivities immediately.”

As the Weequays loaded the cargo into a speeder, Zyon whispered into her ear, “Stay on your toes. Jabba may double cross us.”

Under her breath, Ahsoka mumbled to herself, “Wonderful.” She was certainly not looking forward to going back to Jabba's palace, given what had happened last time. She had grown since then, but there was still the chance that someone would recognize her. 

Ahsoka’s feelings of apprehension only deepened as the speeder cruised through the streets of Anchorhead, and Ahsoka was appalled by some of the things she saw.

Two beautiful blue-skinned Twi'lek females were led by chains through the streets by a Dug. Other passersby openly groped them as they were led past to a building that looked suspiciously like a strip club.

She saw Zyon turn and look at them, before he turned away without a second thought.

Elsewhere, a Devaronian with a cracked horn and nasty facial scar was beating a young slave girl. Ahsoka's breath caught in her throat as she saw the slave girl's species. A young togruta. She had to be only about nine or ten years old.

Ahsoka began to reach out to the slave girl, when she felt Zyon's hand on her shoulder. He shook his head. Sadly, Ahsoka sat back in her seat.

What she didn't see were the tears that were in Zyon's eyes as well.

* * *

Zyon didn't need Jedi powers to notice that Ashla was as nervous as a sinner before a Corellian hell as they walked into Jabba's palace. Her entire demeanor was tense and uncomfortable from the sights they saw on the drive here.

Zyon sympathized with her, but he knew that it was just the way things were on Tatooine. It was the way things were all across Hutt Space. He wasn't surprised that the Republic turned a blind eye to the things that occurred in Hutt Space. The Hutts were allowing them access to hyperspace routes, so the Republic wouldn't make any moves to anger the Hutts. Not even the Jedi would. ‘Defenders of Peace’. 

Hah! 

That was a funny joke.

Multiple gangsters, bounty hunters, and other assorted scum were in the halls of Jabba's palace and a lot of them noticed Ashla's entrance. Why wouldn't they? Ashla was quite a beautiful young woman, but their stares only made her more uncomfortable. 

Zyon wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she looked over at him, giving him a small smile. It wouldn’t offer her more protection from the scum of the galaxy that surrounded them if they thought she was his. Not that they would care, but Ashla obviously didn't mind. It was the thought that counted.

They were led before Jabba and the Twi'lek spoke to Jabba in Huttese, which Zyon understood. He spared a glance over at Ashla, whose eyes were wide at the sight before them.

Scantily clad slave girls walked among the crowd of bounty hunters and scoundrels serving drinks while others danced for the amusement of their master, while they were still chained to him.

Jabba laughed as the Twi'lek, whom Zyon guessed was Jabba's majordomo Bib Fortuna, announced their arrival with the cargo. The Weequays carried in the crate and it was opened.

Zyon raised an eyebrow as he saw the contents: spice. No wonder the payment was so high. Next to him, he heard Ashla mumble under her breath, “You've got to be kriffing me.”

Zyon agreed, and didn't really want to stay here much longer. Spice always brought trouble. He addressed Jabba, bowing his head respectfully. “Exalted One, with your kind permission, I would like to get my payment now so I may continue my run. My crew and I need to be on Naboo by tomorrow.”

Jabba laughed and barked something in Huttese, clearly pleased by the spice. He waved an arm and a gamorrean came up with a chest. Zyon opened it, but was immediately brought to his knees in pain as blue arcs of electricity leaped from the credits in the chest into his body. The Hutt croaked in glee as Zyon shuddered and collapsed to the ground.

Ashla gasped, yelling in anger at the Hutt, “What the kriff is the meaning of this, you sleemo?”

The Hutt laughed and Bib Fortuna spoke, “Most Magnificent Jabba is saddened by your choice to withhold some of his spice. To cover the loss you have impugned upon him, it is by his decree that the girl be enslaved.” 

Ashla gasped again and Zyon could hear the sounds of struggle behind him. As Zyon was dragged from the room, he could hear the laughter of the Hutt mixing with Ashla struggling as she was dragged away by a gamorrean. 

And all he could think was, _I'm sorry, Ashla._

* * *

Ahsoka, her hands bound behind her, was roughly thrown into a small cell. She looked around, taking note of its furnishings. 

Nothing. Less than nothing.

Rock walls. No windows. One rusted durasteel door. And some straw to sleep on. Ahsoka knew that those who were placed in these cells probably never saw the light of day as a free person. 

The door swung open with a screech on its rusted hinges and in walked Bib Fortuna. Ahsoka backed up to the wall as Fortuna approached, a predatory smile on his face and a wicked gleam in his eyes. 

“Welcome back, little Jedi.” He said, taking pleasure in the shocked look that appeared on her face. He laughed, “Did you really think that you wouldn't be recognized? Especially such a pretty girl such as yourself?”

Ahsoka could do nothing. Her hands uselessly bound behind her, trapped alone in Hutt Space with this sick excuse for a sentient being. All she could do was bluff, “Yeah, you should release me or else the Republic will destroy your entire palace!”

To her surprise, and horror, Fortuna laughed, “Oh I don't think the Republic will come, will they, Padawan Tano?” He savored her fearful expression, placing a hand on her cheek, tracing the curve of her face with it. “Ah, but you are not ‘Padawan’ Tano anymore, are you? And don't think that your ‘friend’ Zyon will come for you, either. Does he know who you really are?”

She looked down, unable to make eye contact with him. “I thought not.” Fortuna said, “You may have left the Jedi, but you are still no better than them. You're nothing but a lying whelp drifting through the galaxy, leeching onto those around you and dragging them down. Your partner, he has been betrayed before. Think what he'll do to you when he learns who you are and what you have done.”

Ahsoka squeezed her eyes shut, her head tiliting down and to the side trying the block out his voice, but Fortuna grabbed her chin and violently brought her face up to make eye contact with him. “But here, you could have anything you want. Become one of Master Jabba’s enforcers, and you’ll get more than a place to live, eat, sleep. We can give you anything. Protection. Fame. Power.

“Or,” he clocked his head, looking her over hungrily, “you can become part of Master Jabba's harem and be nothing more than a whore like your former Jedi Masters.”

Fortuna withdrew his hand and backed up to the door. “Consider my words.”

With that, he was gone.

* * *

Zyon gritted his teeth as he was dragged towards the exit to Jabba's palace. On the outside, he appeared to be limp, but on the inside, he was anything but.

He could just leave Ashla here, leave and go back to the way it had been before she had literally fallen into his life.

But he knew that that would never happen. Ashla had changed things for him… forever. She was part of his crew. 

No.

Ashla _was_ his crew! His family, possibly?

If he could, Zyon would have slapped himself for even considering abandoning her. It went against everything that was in his blood. He could feel her, in his head, and she was scared. Afraid.

Alone.

Zyon knew what it was like to be alone. He knew what she was feeling. He had felt it himself at one point. After Haruun Kal. After Florrum.

Images of that planet, that fateful battle, flashed before his mind. He tried to stem the flow, but try as he did, he couldn't. 

He saw the woman he had once seen as a mother, tormented and pained. He felt the sorrow he had once felt as he saw her place the lightsaber to her head, ready to end it all. He felt the loneliness of looking at the temple one last time, not as a Jedi, but as simply Zyon…

He snapped out of his thoughts, anger filling his mind and body. He was failing the Four Pillars, they still ran through his veins as much as his Korun blood did. He felt his inner power rising and he grasped it.

Zyon focused it.

Zyon channelled it.

And then, Zyon released it, sending the two gamorreans dragging him flying into the walls.

* * *

Ahsoka rested her head back against the wall of her cell, for one of the few times in her life, she was afraid. She wasn’t getting out of here any time soon. She’d waste away in this cell and in this kriffing palace for the rest of her life, as a slave. Just like her master had been.

Ahsoka felt tears in her eyes as she remembered the story Obi-Wan had told her once about her master’s past, about how Obi-Wan’s master had came upon a young Anakin who lived as a slave boy and about how Anakin had won a podrace to win his freedom. Obi-Wan had told her that the Force had drawn Qui-Gon Jinn to Anakin, but she had trouble believing that her becoming a slave was a part of the Force’s plan for it.

As a Jedi, she had been trained that the only true mistake a Jedi could ever make was to fail to trust the Force, but the past few weeks had made it harder and harder for her to. She had been betrayed and abandoned by the Jedi, the embodiment of the Light Side of the Force, and the Force had fled from her until she met Zyon. Separated from him as she was, it seemed to have fled from her again. 

She could never win her freedom like Anakin had. Anakin had an… inner strength. A will so strong that she thought it could bear the weight of the Republic. She knew the moniker the holonet gave him, “The Hero with No Fear”, was false. She knew Anakin was truly the Hero Stronger than Fear. Ahsoka knew that her, Padme’s, Obi-Wan’s, or Chancellor Palpatine’s lives could be in danger, and Anakin would still come for them, despite knowing that they could die at any moment. He looked fear in the eye and would never stop. He would never stop in his quest to save his friends, and he was the only one who believed in her when she was framed by Barriss. Ahsoka could never hope to match his inner will.

But she did have an out from her imminent life as a whore: Fortuna’s offer.

She could accept it, and have anything she wanted. Of course, they would take anything they wanted first, but still, she wouldn’t be stuck in this kriffing cell forever. All she would have to do would be swear loyalty to Jabba, do whatever they required, and she would become one of them. An ex-Jedi on their side would bring Jabba even more power than he already held, and they would take care of her because of that power she would bring.

But power did not mean victory. She knew she would never be truly free of Jabba, no matter how much power she gained through it, and still be herself. To do so would mean to betray everything that she believed in. It would turn Anakin against her if she ever ran into him again.

_“But you’ll never see him again. He doesn’t care about you.”_

Where had that come from?!?

That sinister whisper that crept up into the base of her skull, an icy snake that chilled her to the bone. When had she started thinking like that? Ahsoka didn’t know. All she knew was that she had a choice.

It was a choice between what Ahsoka knew was morally right and what was the easiest option.

What would Zyon have done if he had been offered the same deal? Oh he would have accepted in a heartbeat. The sufferings of others didn’t affect him, all he cared about was himself. After all, he hadn’t given a second thought to the deplorable activity around them on the drive here.

Actually no, that was not entirely correct and Ahsoka knew it wasn’t. For some reason, Zyon had saved her life after her incident on Nar Shaddaa, healed her, and took her on as a crew member, even though she hadn’t done much for her at all.

Zyon was full of contradictions. He would say or do one thing, then do the exact opposite. He was clearly used to being alone, and preferred it that way, but had taken her on. At this point, Ahsoka wasn’t even sure he knew what he would choose to do if given the same choice she was. Luckily for him, he had probably gone and left her behind, escaping while he could. 

But for Ahsoka, it was not much of a choice at all. Even though she wasn’t a Jedi any longer, she still had her morals from her time in the Order. Though she was not a Jedi in name, Ahsoka was still a Jedi at heart. She would never work for an organization that willingly caused suffering and misery. Despite the fact that she might live the rest of her life forgotten and broken as a whore in a Hutt’s harem, she would never reconsider. Who knew? Her status as a sex slave combined with her force abilities might eventually provide her some way to escape. Ahsoka smiled to herself, perhaps she and Anakin were more alike than she thought.

Ahsoka heard something through the massive door. Something muffled, but clearly approaching.

In response, Ahsoka backed away from the door and stood straight, head held high, ready to give Bib Fortuna her answer and meet her fate.

The door swung open, and the last person Ahsoka expected to see walked through it.

* * *

“Zyon?”

Zyon chuckled at Ashla’s shocked expression. She was obviously not expecting to see him walk through that door. “Expecting someone else?”

Ashla shrugged, flashing him a smile, “I was, but I’m glad I was wrong.” She turned around, holding her arms up towards him so he could see the binders that held her. “Now can you help me out of these so I don’t end up one of Jabba’s slaves? I don’t know what you pulled to get past the guards, but they’re going to find out sometime soon and I’d _really_ rather not be here when they do.”

Zyon nodded, picking up the vibroaxe that lay on the ground next to a comatose gamorrean. It only took a couple whacks to break through the chain.

Ashla sighed in relief, “I’ll cut the rest off when we get back to the ship.”

Zyon nodded, “Right, let’s go.”

The two of them ran through the chaos Zyon had caused, comatose guards splayed every which way. Ashla laughed as they passed them, “How did you accomplish this?”

Zyon shrugged, “I asked them to let you and me go and they disagreed.”

She laughed and the sound of it warmed his heart. He was glad that she was not too mad at him for getting her into this mess. Wait, where did that come from?

They fled through the entrance to the palace, the guard taken completely by surprise by the two of them and quickly knocked out. They ran out the door, the rest of the escape going by in a blur for Zyon. He was living in the moment, reacting to each guard as they approached and each obstacle as it appeared, whether it be finding a speeder or escaping the swoop bikes that pursued them. 

Some fancy flying by Ashla--he made a note to ask how a mechanic was able to handle a speeder with that kind of agility and grace--resulted in the collision and small problem in their pursuers’ bikes. And by “small problem”, he of course meant the large explosion of their pursuers. 

The rest of the ride back into Anchorhead went by without incident, except until they got to the spaceport and hangar where their ship was docked. One Weequay and a Rodian stood guard, humongous, and probably illegal, blaster rifles in their hands.

Ashla gave him a quick glance and said, “You think they’re going to shoot us on sight?”

“Probably.” Zyon shrugged, “They’ve also probably locked down the ship, so it can only leave if a clearance code is entered. I’d bet that they know the code. Hutts and their officers are lazy.”

Ashla nodded. “Leave that to me. Stay out here until I call.” She said as she began walking towards the entrance to the pad. Zyon’s eyes widened as he saw Ashla begin to strut towards the guards and unzip her jumpsuit.

What the hell was she doing?

* * *

Ahsoka smiled seductively at the two guards as she strutted towards them. She knew their type: scoundrels who would see nothing but a hot togruta female for them to bang. It would be a piece of cake for her to get that clearance code from them if they were distracted by her maturing body.

Oh she had no intention of following through with whatever they wanted her to do. Ahsoka was no whore, just using the resources she had available. She couldn’t shoot them without the chance of killing both of them, and that would mean they would be grounded. Ahsoka just needed the information she wanted and they’d be out like a light.

Ahsoka saw them notice her, and she could hear what they were saying.

“Son of a Hutt! Check this out!” One said, motioning towards her with his blaster.

Ahsoka decided to put on a show, throwing the top of her jumpsuit to the dusty ground so she stood before them _almost_ completely topless. She then hooked a finger in the waistband of her pants, beckoning for them to come closer. She had no intention of putting herself completely on display, she just needed to show enough skin for them to entice them.

“I’m with you.” The other guard said, “It’s been awhile since I kriffed a tailhead.”

They approached, blaster rifles forgotten on the ground as they began taking off their belts. Ahsoka gave them her most seductive smirk, laughing internally at their stupidity. How could they actually believe that a woman who had never even met them would be so overcome with lust at the sight of them that she’d strip and beckon for them to kriff her?

As they stopped before her, hungry eyes roaming her body, Ahsoka gave a soft wave of the hand, and said, “You want to tell me the unlock code for this ship.”

The weequays paused, eyes glassy and unfocused, and mechanically replied, “We want to tell you the unlock code for this ship.” And they subsequently proceeded to rattle off the unlock code for the ship. Ahsoka smiled sweetly, waving her hand softly again and said, “You will forget all of this.”

Before they could respond, Ahsoka had kicked one of the guards’ legs out from under him, grabbed his sidearm blaster, and stunned both of them in a matter of seconds.

“You can come in!” She yelled. A couple seconds later, Zyon came running in, eyes wide in surprise as he saw the two guards unconscious on the ground, their blaster rifles several meters away from them, and Ahsoka pulling the top of her jumpsuit back on. “Surprised?” Ahsoka said with a smirk.

Zyon nodded, then said, “You got the code.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, and her only response was to input it into the lock control, which beeped and turned green as the locks disengaged. Zyon smiled at her, “Let’s get out of here.”

Minutes later, the distant specks of the trillions of far-away stars in the galaxy elongated into lines as the black void of space transformed into the blue-gray swirl of hyperspace. Zyon turned to look at Ahsoka, who was sitting in the copilot’s seat. “What the hell were you thinking down there?”

“What?” Ahsoka said, a little bit shocked. This transformation of Zyon was odd, he had been all smiles on the ground about her little stunt. She also knew that he had been partly responsible for her being able to take those two guards out as easily as she did. Being closer to each other had strengthened the Force Bond between them, and increased her connection to it. She still had to ask if he knew anything about it.

Zyon put a hand to his temple, sighing, “I know you got the codes and it all worked out, but why did you start acting like a slut in front of them? Do you know what could have happened to you? They might have shot you alive the moment they saw you!”

Ahsoka glared at him, holding up a finger as she retorted, “One, I never had any intention of doing anything with them. I’m not a kriffing whore!” She held up a second one, “Two, they wouldn’t have shot me, I know their type. The same type that was chasing me on Nar Shaddaa. They won’t shoot someone they think they can kriff.” She held up a third finger, “Third, I can take care of myself. I handled them with ease.” 

_Not entirely on my own, though,_ she thought to herself, but there was no reason to bring it up now, neither of them was in the mood for this kind of conversation.

Zyon sighed again as he said, “Just, please try to be more careful and less reckless in the future.”

“Says the guy who made a delivery to a Hutt without asking what he was carrying?”

Zyon cracked a smile, “Touche.”

Ahsoka got up and began to head for the engine bay. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to continue working on that piece of bantha poodoo you call an engine.”

“Ashla.” Ahsoka stopped and turned to look at Zyon over her shoulder, who said, “Thank you.” She nodded and continued on to the engine bay, a small smile on her lips. She was finally getting somewhere through that mental armor of his.

He had never thanked her before.


	3. Buried Treasure

> _“My offer is simple: I make you filthy rich. It’s a pretty straightforward business model.” Risha Drayen_

* * *

Coruscant. Capital of the Galactic Republic. A planet whose sole city spanned the entire surface of the world and rose from the surface of the world kilometers up into the sky. Very few who had been there could claim to have actually been on the planet itself. They had been on Galactic City, but not quite Coruscant itself.

Approaching Coruscant was often awe-inspiring for those who hadn’t been there before. Seen from orbit, Galactic City is a blaze of light and sparkling colors, reminding some spacers of the corusca stones that the planet was named for so long ago. These lights that glittered and shone from Galactic City filled countless visitors with wonder and amazement. Galactic City itself only contributed to this nature, with its countless skyscrapers that stood as tall as mountains and millions of speeders that crisscrossed the skies, somehow staying in perfect skylanes and never colliding with each other.

Coruscant was where everything happened. For all intents and purposes, Coruscant _was_ the center of the galaxy, nestled as it was at the junction of numerous major hyperlanes, including the Perlemian Trade Route, the Corellian Run, the Metellos Trade Route, the Koros Trunk Line, and the Leisure Corridor. Hell, its hyperspace coordinates were (0,0,0). It was for this reason that Coruscant was generally agreed to be the most important planet throughout most of galactic history, as well as being seen as one of the wealthiest.

But this was only a mirage, for Coruscant, like the Republic itself, was gilded. Beneath the glittering surface of Galactic City lay the Coruscant Underworld. The underworld's streets were riddled with thugs and the walls and streets were home to all manner of strange creatures. Different regions and levels of the underworld ranged from the merely seedy, such as the Uscru Entertainment District, but progressively worsened as one descended to areas of unending darkness populated solely by hypertrophied vermin and zombie-like devolved humanoids. 

It was here currently that Anakin Skywalker walked the gloomy, rainy streets.

Alone.

With nothing but his thoughts to accompany him.

Anakin had never quite been the same since his padawan left. It was as if part of him had been stripped away. Anyone who knew him would tell you that Anakin was hurting inside. In a way, Anakin is like Coruscant. He is the picture of power and confidence on the outside, to the Holonet and the citizens of the Republic, but inside… inside he is fractured. Decaying.

It is a truism of the Jedi Order that a Jedi Knight’s education truly begins only when they take on an apprentice of their own; that everything important about being a Master is learned from one’s student.

Anakin often dreams that Ahsoka did not close his hand around her padawan braid, that she had accepted and become the Order’s newest Jedi Knight. He dreams that her snarky, calming presence is still with him, much like Obi-Wan’s dreams that his master Qui-Gon Jinn’s wise guiding hand is still with him. But unlike Qui-Gon’s death, which is an old pain for Obi-Wan, Ahsoka’s departure is a stabbing red-hot lance that sometimes pierces the armor Anakin has built around his heart and mind. A throbbing reminder that the Order failed her, and that she is now alone in the galaxy. Anakin knew that Obi-Wan was able to come to terms with his regrets, his dreams and pains, but Anakin cannot.

A Jedi is not supposed to dwell on the past.

But Anakin does, because he knows that to have lived through the Clone Wars without Ahsoka Tano as his padawan would have left him a different man. A lesser man.

Ahsoka taught him so much.

Anakin saw so much of himself and Obi-Wan in Ahsoka that it hurts his heart. She mirrors their flair for the dramatic and Anakin’s reckless disregard for rules. Anakin knows he should not be thinking about this, but what choice does he have?

Anakin loves his padawan. Not as he loves his wife Padme, but as one would love a little sister. He loves her the same way he knows Obi-Wan loves him, a bond between siblings. In some ways, that is the relationship between all of them.

The Jedi declare love to be a thing of evil. They say that attachment leads to the dark side, but Anakin cannot help it. He is the Chosen One. He feels emotion and love more intensely than any Jedi before him, but he knows he cannot turn to any of them for help, for all he would hear is about how attachment leads to the dark side. About how he must accept it and let go.

But Anakin can’t.

Because to let go of the ones he loves: Padme, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan; would be to let go of his humanity. He would cease being Anakin Skywalker if he did.

Anakin needed to get out of the underworld, away from the places where Ahsoka had run, run from those she had once trusted her life with. He got about a few steps when he stopped in his tracks. He sensed a presence, and sighed deeply.

“What do you want, Master?”

Obi-Wan Kenobi walked up behind him as Anakin turned to face his old master. Out of all of the council members, only Obi-Wan and Plo Koon were the ones who doubted that Ahsoka had been guilty, but neither of them did anything to save her. Obi-Wan removed the hood of his cloak and gestured to a small overhang, “Mind if we get out of the rain?”

As they did, Obi-Wan asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan’s voice was sad, but firm. 

Anakin clenched his fist. Why did Obi-Wan always know about the things Anakin did now want to talk about? “Forget it, she’s gone.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, his voice gentle in tone, “dwelling on Ahsoka’s decision won’t bring her back.”

Anakin raked his hands through his hair, frustration pouring out of him, “I miss her, okay! Is that what you wanted me to say? I still don’t understand how she could have left the Order. How she left me.”

“It was a surprise decision to all of us.”

“It was wrong! She’s a Jedi! She belongs with us.” He turned to look Obi-Wan in the eye, “She’s one of us.”

“She made the decision, Anakin.”

“Well, what choice did we give her? The moment there were any suspicions about her loyalty the Council turned their backs on her.”

Obi-Wan looked down, “I will grant you mistakes were made, but she made the choice to leave. Part of the Jedi Way is not letting emotion cloud your better judgement, which is what Ahsoka did, even in her most critical moment.” Obi-Wan paused and placed a gentle, caring hand on Anakin’s shoulder, “You can’t take responsibility for Ahsoka’s decision, Anakin.”

Anakin was silent for a moment, then he asked, “How would you feel if I turned into a major disappointment?”

Obi-Wan was silent, contemplative, before he responded. “It’s not the same.”

“It’s precisely the same!” Anakin yelled, “You took me under your wing and practically raised me. I’m your Padawan just as Ahsoka was mine. How well would you sleep knowing I had failed you?”

Obi-Wan looked out into the rain, “Not very well, I imagine. Luckily, that isn’t true.” He turned to Anakin again and smiled, “And never will be.”

Anakin stood by Obi-Wan’s side, his anger and sadness abating slightly. “Something though tells me you didn’t come to find me just to speak about Ahsoka’s decision. You could have done the same in the Temple.” Obi-Wan nodded, and Anakin saw great sadness in his eyes. “Master, what is it?”

He was expecting grim news about the battlefield, another system lost to Dooku and the Separatists or another massacre committed on a species like the Mahranee, and he steeled himself to absorb it. What Anakin was not prepared for, were the eleven words that came from Obi-Wan’s mouth.

“It’s about Ahsoka, a bounty has been placed on her head.”

* * *

“Are you sure about this?”

“Not at all.”

 _Wonderful._ Ahsoka thought. “You remember what happened last time you met up with a contact of yours? I almost was made a slave to Jabba the Hutt!” She said, crossing her arms as she stood in the cockpit doorway, glaring at Zyon.

“But who saved you?” Zyon was smirking at her, and Ahsoka’s angry glare cracked into a small smile. “Relax Ashla,” Zyon said as he turned back to the controls of the freighter, steering it through the myriad of traffic surrounding the capital of the Republic, “this will be a walk in the park.”

“You said that last time as well.” Was Ahsoka’s deadpan response, causing Zyon to burst out laughing, as did she. When they had finally settled down, Ahsoka asked, “Who are we meeting again?”

“An old friend. He says that he’s got an opportunity that we can’t pass up, but he’ll only discuss it in person.”

“Sounds like a trap.” Ahsoka said absently to herself as Zyon keyed in the landing sequence and the freighter shuddered slightly as the landing gear hit the ground of the spaceport.

This is how it feels to be Ahsoka Tano, right now…

From the moment you touch down at Coruscant Spaceport, your usual confidence is a mere shadow of what it usually is. The sights you saw coming in to land are familiar, but different at the same time. You have not been back to Coruscant since you had left the Jedi Order, and the thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

The path from the spaceport leads to the Senate Plaza, and you lean against a railing while your partner sets about renting a speeder. It is nighttime, so the crowds of people, mostly tourists, who mingle on the Senate Plaza gawking at the Senate Rotunda and the skyscrapers surrounding it, most notably the 500 Republica where Supreme Chancellor Palpatine lives, are not as large as they could have been.

Not far from the Senate Plaza stands the Jedi Temple. The massive ziggurat is a sight to behold at any time of the day with its spires dominating Coruscant’s skyline, but is especially awe-inspiring at night when the skies above it are dark, and the lights of Coruscant’s skyline create a halo around the edges and spires. The Temple is a light in the darkness, and to most people a place of worship and strength, safety and power. Those few who are able to go inside are immediately awestruck by the massive statues, vaulted ceilings, and hundreds of Jedi coming and going, training and learning, at peace.

This is what the Jedi are to the citizens of the Republic. A beacon in the night.

And yet, as you gaze upon it, you know that this is nothing more than holonet propaganda used to tell civilians what they want to hear. Because the truth is much worse.

All you feel as you gaze upon the place that was once your home not more than a couple months ago is a harsh chill that creeps up your spine into your mind and your eyes narrow in anger. The Jedi are not the paragons of righteousness and virtue that you had once believed in, that so many others believe in now. The Temple is not warm or comforting, but cold and clouded by darkness. The Council is not infallible or even wise, but mired in the quagmire of corruption and politics that caused this war in the first place.

The truth is that the Jedi Council would rather serve the Senate than serve the will of the Force.

And you were caught in the middle of that struggle. Cast out. Betrayed.

And now as you stand against the railing of the Senate Plaza, glaring at the Jedi Temple while your anger smolders in your stomach, you feel the gaze of eyes on your back. You turn to see two Twi’lek’s, one male and one female, and a male zabrak staring at you, their eyes scrunched as if scrutinizing you, determining whether they recognize you.

You hear yourself say, “Do I know you?”

“I know you.” The zabrak says, “You’re Ahsoka Tano, the rogue togruta who bombed the Jedi.”

Your anger swells inside you, the backs of your eyes burn in it. You had already gone through this fight. You were cleared. How is that so hard for these people to understand? “That’s none of your business. I was proven innocent.”

The zabak sneers, “Oh yeah, I’ve got a cousin in the Underworld Police who was badly injured chasing you! Why don’t they charge you for that? Lock you up like you deserve!”

You hold his stare, trying desperately to force down the sudden wave of anger, fear, and remorse that is drowning you, fighting the urge to both retreat or attack him. You had never intended to hurt anyone, you just wanted to clear yourself.

“Easy Ses,” the male Twi’lek says, “you had one too many at lunch today.”

“When was the last time you heard from your cousin anyways?” adds the female. “Last I heard he owed you money.”

The Twi’leks give you an apologetic look as they lead their drunk friend away, but not before he calls over his shoulder to you, “Crawl back to your hole, Tano! We don’t want your kind here!”

You watch him leave with your face burning hot, the white-hot fire of anger burning behind your eyes that threatens to boil over and pour out through your hands. It would be so easy to reach out through the Force and snap his neck. Red smoke clouds your vision as you extend a hand, but you snap out of it in shock. Your montrals darken and your face heats up, this time with deep shame and embarrassment. You look around you and find others watching you, mixed emotions on their faces. Anger. Disgust. Pity. And… fear.

Despite being proven innocent, you cannot escape the damage that was done to you. Those choices cannot ever be changed, no matter how much false apology is given by the Council. Tears well up in your eyes. You were once a loved and respected Jedi and military commander, made famous alongside your Master and his old master by the holonet. Younglings of all backgrounds looked up to you as who they wanted to be when they grew older. The bold, brave commander of the 501st Legion who fights side by side with Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. And now you have none of that. Now they _fear_ you.

With good reason.

So you do what you did on Nar Shaddaa.

You run.

* * *

Zyon stepped outside of the rental place to where he last saw Ashla, gazing out over Coruscant from the Senate Plaza, but she was not there. He had known something was up ever since they came into orbit.

He doubted a simple mechanic from Nar Shaddaa would have ever been to Coruscant before, so he was ready to watch her amazement at the lights of Galactic City, but Ashla had been mostly silent, not even talking about the planet or city. It was as if she had seen it all before, which he expected seeing how he knew that she was not simply a young mechanic. He could feel through their bond great sadness and anger, specifically at the sight of the Jedi Temple.

Now Zyon was not stupid. He knew Ashla was lying to him about a lot of things. Her reaction to the sight of the Jedi Temple meant that she had a history with the Jedi. That, coupled with the bounty placed on her head by the Exchange on Nar Shaddaa when he had first met her, and her fighting style in the market at Taleucema led him to believe she was an ex-Jedi. Probably kicked out of the Order for some reason or other. Much like…

…much like he had been.

Zyon knew he couldn’t keep running from his past like this, denying it in his head wasn’t going to work forever. He knew someday that he would have to come clean to her about his past and all the terrible things that he had done and witnessed on Haruun Kal.

It scared him. How would she react? Would she reject him and run away? And why was he worrying so much about Ashla’s reaction?

Zyon didn’t know how to answer any of those questions.

The only thing that he knew was that he was afraid of his past. Throw a squad of droids at him? No problem. Hire him to smuggle something via the Kessel Run? Dangerous, but no sweat. Confront him with the possibility of telling someone about his past?

Zyon didn’t think he’d be able to pull it off.

He’d have to trust whoever he told, and Zyon hadn’t trusted anyone in years.

Anyways, back to the matter at hand: where the hell was Ashla? She couldn’t have run far, she didn’t have a speeder. Therefore, Zyon scanned the crowd, searching for the easily identifiable shape of togrutan montrals, but he saw nothing. No sign of her. Where could she be?

The Force gave him his answer. A presence nearby, filled to the brim with sadness and anger, that left a trail through the Force. A trail he could follow. A trail that, surprisingly, led him back into the speeder rental place to the door of the women’s refresher.

Reluctantly, Zyon sat down to wait for Ashla to come out. As much as he may want to go inside and comfort Ashla in her moment of need and weakness, public decency made him wait. Not that he minded really, they weren’t due to meet up with his old contact for a couple hours anyways.

About 15 minutes later or so, Zyon had lost track of the time, Ashla came out, wiping her eyes and giving him a small smile that didn’t quite reach the rest of her face.

“You alright?” Zyon said, genuine concern flooding through him.

“I’m fine.” Ashla said in a tone that he could tell meant she didn’t want to talk about it.

“You sure?”

“I said I’m fine,” Ashla said with some snark in her voice before she deflected the subject. “You got our ride?”

Zyon held up the keys to his speeder and jerked his head in the universal _come on_ gesture before leading the way out of the building and down a staircase to where all the speeders were parked.

As the speeder dove down through the air, banking sharply to join the other throngs of speeder traffic still crisscrossing the sky as it made its way down towards the Old Galactic Market, Zyon could sense something odd through their bond. Ashla was afraid, terrified.

But not of the speeder ride, nor of him or anyone else around them. It was not fear of any event that had happened in her past. She hid it well, well enough that Zyon couldn’t discern what she was actually afraid of, even through their Force bond.

The rest of the ride passed in tense silence, the only noises being the wind whipping past them, the blaring of speeder horns as millions crisscrossed the skies, and the chatter from those who still roamed the streets and walkways. It was not a long drive, so a few minutes later, they were walking amongst the stalls where vendors of various species sold everything from weapons and armor to fruits to various trinkets.

They had some time to kill before they needed to meet with his contact in the Dealer’s Den Cantina, so he and Ashla split up. Zyon walked amongst the various stalls and vendors, buying different supplies that his freighter needed. The Old Galactic Market had a colorful history for certain. It was said that thousands of years ago the Old Galactic Market was a bustling center of commerce where the goods and wealth of the galaxy flowed freely. But after the Sith sacked Coruscant in the Great Galactic War, the market became a shadow of its former self with homeless families squatting in the marketplace because their homes were destroyed in the Sith Invasion and, when ordered to leave by Republic military forces, the squatters rioted in protest. The market never regained its splendor and glory, with various criminal groups gradually establishing control over the area. The Migrant Merchants Guild, Black Sun, Justicars, and even the Exchange were reported to have controlled the Market at some point or other.

Visitors such as Zyon could still find useful technology or rare weapons here, which was why Zyon liked it and went their whenever he could, however most stay away. It was here that Zyon first stayed after he left the Order, here that he bought his first blaster, and here that he found passage offworld by stowing away on the speeder of a freighter crew that was buying supplies and a couple more weapons.

Many of the vendors who were here two years ago still recognized him and Zyon enjoyed talking to them when he could. He got discounts on everything he bought, as it was here that he earned his first credits as a mercenary doing work for the vendors that surrounded him now.

Looking through the market, he spotted Ashla sitting on a bench, carefully scrutinizing some pieces of scrap metal or so. She seemed to make a decision and slip them into her pockets, which made Zyon raise an eyebrow. _What could she want with bits and pieces of scrap?_

Zyon made his way over to her and she stood up as he approached. “Get everything you want?” Ashla asked.

“Yep,” Zyon said as he nodded to the speeder. “It’s all in there. I got something for you as well.”

* * *

Ahsoka had wandered through the stalls of the market trying to go over what had happened in the last hour. What would happen if she lost control of her anger? 

She could have killed that guy!

He wouldn’t have been the first living creature Ahsoka had killed. She had killed Geonosians, Zygerrians, Death Watch, and some of Hondo’s Gang alongside the Separatist Commander of the Citadel Osi Sobeck, but those were all in the heat of battle. If she hadn’t acted, they would have killed her.

This was the first time she had ever considered killing someone in cold blood. In revenge.

This was what scared her. The thought of falling to the dark side, of becoming what she had fought and sworn to destroy. The disappointment and sadness she would cause Anakin when he would inevitably find out about what she had done.

 _“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”_ Ahsoka remembered Yoda’s words well.

Ahsoka was glad that Zyon had recommended splitting up, she needed some time to herself. To center herself and come to terms with what had happened in the Senate Plaza. And she had managed to do so, somewhat at least. In the middle of it though, Ahsoka noticed something odd. Her montrals picked up a sort of buzzing sound coming from around her, and she realized what it was immediately.

Something was calling to her.

Ahsoka made her way over to where it was, but all she found was a crashed speeder with various bits and pieces of tech scattered around it on the ground. The speeder had been here for a while it seemed, and no one had bothered to clear it, which wasn’t surprising given how it was below the upper levels of Galactic City, so not many people cared about tidiness and cleanliness.

For some reason though, some of the bits and pieces of scrap and tech before her were calling out to her, like she was supposed to take them. Inwardly, Ahsoka shrugged. How much harm could they do to her?

She picked them up and sat down on a nearby bench to scrutinize them. There were pieces of power conduits, shaped alloys, and other parts of what could be a power assembly that were useless on their own, but there was a surprising familiarity to them. Put together with the right parts and tools, they could be something else.

Ahsoka pocketed them and stood as she saw Zyon approaching. It was obvious that he did, impossible as it may seem, care for her. He didn’t leave her behind on Taleucema, rescued her from Jabba on Tatooine, and she remembered seeing genuine concern on his face after she left the refresher up at the speeder rental place.

She didn’t want it. She didn’t want to get too connected to him, too attached. She didn’t want his help or support because one day he, like Anakin, would be gone from her life and Ahsoka didn’t want that pain again. But… damn it the guy was just so kriffing likeable! He never swore at her or leered at her, he respected her privacy and desire to keep her cards close to her chest. And not bad to look at either. No matter what she wanted, she couldn’t deny that Zyon was easy on the eyes.

She stopped herself before she blushed, looking away and driving those thoughts from her mind, settling on asking if he had gotten all of their supplies.

She got the expected affirmative answer, but what she was not expecting him to say what came next: “I got something for you as well.”

“What?”

“Some equipment.” Zyon answered. “Coruscant Police don’t patrol this area often, so if you know the right vendors you can get your hands on some… contraband.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, well, where an eyebrow would be if she had them. The gesture was similar enough at least with her facial markings. “And by contraband you mean?” If he went spice, then she would destroy it right before his very eyes.

Zyon shrugged, “Armor, blasters, other weapons. All military grade.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a brand new vibroblade twirling it slightly before he handed it to her. At her astonished expression, he said, “I remember you used one of these with great efficiency during the skirmish in Taleucema.” He handed it to her, and Ahsoka balanced it in her hand. It fit incredibly well, the blade slightly shorter to compensate for her shorter height. Zyon continued talking as she moved it through a few motions and sequences. “Cortosis weave, so it can stand up to almost anything and the hilt is insulated. You can use it to take out a droid or power terminal and you won’t get electrocuted.” He grinned, “I thought you might like it.”

Ahsoka turned to him in shock, this thing couldn’t have been cheap and they had been running low on credits for a while. “But- why for me? This had to have cost a lot and we don’t have the credits to spare and-”

He cut off her rambling with another grin and a raised hand. “Actually, it cost nothing. I know the vendor, helped him deal with some thugs a while back, and he told me that I would always be welcome in his store. When I told him what I wanted he said to take it, it was on the house.”

Ahsoka didn’t know what to say. She reacted without thinking and flung her arms around him. Zyon flinched at the sudden contact before he hugged her back. They stayed like that a little longer before breaking apart, Ahsoka sheathing the vibroblade and slingling it across her back. She nodded towards the cantina, “Shall we go?”

Zyon smirked and nodded, and the two walked past the bouncers into the cantina.

The cantina, as was expected, was loud with many patrons shouting or drunkenly singing alongside the Bith musicians and Twi’lek singers and dancers. Off in a sideroom, Ahsoka saw gambling tables, card games, and slot machines surrounded by throngs of gamblers who had too much money than they could handle. At the bar, droid bartenders made the rounds of those who sat and drank while waitresses in varying amounts of clothing went back and forth amongst different customers carrying food and drinks. It was noticeable that those waitresses who had less clothing on ended up getting larger tips, but that wasn’t really a surprise.

It was your regular run-of-the-mill lower level cantina that you could find all over the seedier parts of more developed worlds. The farther from the Core you went, these cantinas would get smaller and smaller, droids replaced by humans, large selections of alcohol replaced by a few, less waitresses, fewer musicians and singers, if any at all. Zyon appeared to be right at home here, deftly maneuvering his way to the bar, getting a few drinks, before motioning her to follow him to a booth in the corner, where a stocky Nikto was nursing a drink.

Over in this corner of the cantina, the lighting was lower and it wasn’t nearly as clean as the brightly-lit bar and gambling rooms. This was where business was usually discussed, secret plans created and contraband swapped.

The Nikto looked up and recognition washed over his face as he saw Zyon. He stood up, spreading his arms apart. “Zyon! You’re looking well!”

“Syr!” Zyon said, giving the Nikto a firm, friendly handshake. “It’s good to see you again

The Nikto looked over at her, giving her a once over with his eyes. She didn’t mind, there was nothing predatory in his gaze, just weariness. The Nikto turned to Zyon and indicated her. “I assume this is the crew you talked about?”

Zyon nodded and motioned towards the Nikto with his hands. “Ashla, this is my old friend Syr Keth. Syr, this is my crewmate Ashla. She’s a mechanic.”

The Nikto, Syr Keth, extended a hand and Ahsoka took it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ashla. I’m glad Zyon finally got someone else on that damn ship of his.”

“Pleased to meet you Syr,” Ahsoka said as she shook his hand. “If I may, how do you know Zyon?”

Syr laughed as they all sat back down. “I’m a merchant. First met Zyon here a couple years ago when he used to live here. Some gangster stole something of mine and I hired Zyon to track it down. We’ve kept in touch ever since.”

Zyon nodded and asked, “So what’s the big deal that you can’t discuss over holo?”

Syr lowered his voice and leaned forward, placing his datapad before them. “A few days ago, I came upon this.” He pulled up what appeared to be some sort of journal entry. “It’s the private journal of a Rodian treasure hunter, Stuska Braldeq. He disappeared years ago searching for the lost treasure of Davik Kang.”

Zyon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Lost Treasure of who?”

“Davik Kang. He was a crime lord who lived on the planet Taris over three thousand years ago. Ruled over the planet with an iron fist before it was destroyed by a Sith orbital bombardment. Legend says he was killed by the Jedi Revan during the bombardment and Revan escaped on Davik’s ship, the _Ebon Hawk_. You’ve never heard of this?”

Ahsoka frowned, she had heard something about it years ago when she was still a youngling. Stories about the legendary Revan and Darth Malak. Ever since she became Anakin’s padawan, however, the war had taken up too much of her focus. “Why did the Sith destroy Taris?” she asked.

“Nobody knows the true story, it happened so long ago. From what I know, a Jedi had been shot down over Taris by Sith forces under the command of a Sith Lord named Darth Malak. Legends say that the Jedi was rescued by Revan and in an attempt to stop them from escaping, Malak ordered his fleet to bombard the planet and destroy them all, but Revan and the Jedi escaped and defeated him a while later. The planet, however, was reduced to a toxic wasteland, overrun by rakghouls, and has never truly recovered.”

Zyon grunted, obviously having never heard this story before. “Interesting. So Davik Kang’s treasure was lost with the bombardment?”

Syr nodded, “Yes. But apparently there was a map created by the one person who discovered it. Thousands of years ago, according to Stuska’s journal, a human named Clartra Sanfol stumbled upon the treasure, and apparently, he couldn’t carry all of it at once so he wrote a map so he could find it again. Problem is, he was killed shortly later and the map went missing, nobody knows where it is.”

Ahsoka frowned, “Nobody but Stuska Braldeq, I assume.”

Syr smiled at her, “Yes. Apparently, Stuska found part of the map from the Exchange on Nar Shaddaa, but disappeared shortly after he left the world. The only one who would know where he went would be the Exchange boss he interrogated, a weequay named Das-Lenn Akboc. Guy now lives as a slave because he lost the map, but is still on Nar Shaddaa.”

Zyon frowned, “So we have to go back to Nar Shaddaa?”

Syr nodded, “Sadly, yes.” He looked back and forth between Ahsoka and Zyon, “Is that a problem?”

Ahsoka nodded, “Yes.”

Zyon continued, “Unfortunately, I found Ashla on Nar Shaddaa. She was badly injured after being chased by both Exchange and Hutt Cartel thugs.”

Syr sat back, frowning, “That is a problem.”

Zyon appeared to mull something over in his head for a while before he turned to her. “Ashla, mind if I talk to Syr for a few minutes alone?”

 _That’s an odd request._ Ahsoka thought to herself, but outwardly, she shrugged. “Sure, I need a drink anyways.”

* * *

As Ashla walked away towards the bar, Zyon turned back to his old friend. Syr was looking at him with an expectant expression on his face, so Zyon said. “There’s a bounty on her head, one from both the Exchange and Jabba the Hutt.”

Syr laughed softly, “Now how did she accomplish that?”

Zyon looked over towards Ashla, who was standing at the bar ordering something to drink. She wouldn’t be able to hear him reveal his suspicions about her. “I think she’s an ex-Jedi.”

Syr’s eyes widened, “You just keep attracting people like you, don’t you Zyon?”

“Shut up,” Zyon said. “The Exchange bounty claimed she was a Jedi, but she had nothing when I found her. No lightsaber. No comlink. Nothing but an extra pair of clothes and a few credits. I thought they were mistaken, until on Saleucami I discovered she’s force-sensitive.”

“Being force-sensitive doesn’t make one a Jedi,” Syr said. “Remember your brother and the rest of your people?”

“Leave them out of this,” Zyon snapped back. “I don’t want to talk about them. But somehow, Ashla managed to get the code to unlock a spaceport hangar from two Hutt guards incredibly easily and can drive a speeder like a starfighter. And on the way here, when we flew by the Jedi Temple, I felt anger and sadness coming from her, like she didn’t like the Jedi but missed someone who was there in the temple.”

“Interesting,” Syr said as he scratched his chin, thinking. “You know what, now that you mention it she does look somewhat familiar.” He scrolled through his datapad to a news article from a couple months ago. On it was a familiar face, Ashla’s, and a headline that chilled Zyon’s blood:

_Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano on Trial for Sedition_

Scanning the date, Zyon realized that he’d been out in Wild Space during that time, unable to access the holonet and not caring about what happened on Coruscant. He had been completely ignorant of what had happened.

Apparently, Ashla, no wait… Ahsoka had been accused of organizing a bombing of the Jedi Temple, murdering the bomber to cover her tracks, and escaped from a Republic prison, killing a few clones as she ran. She was supposedly captured in possession of the nano droids that blew up the temple, was kicked out of the Jedi Order, and was put on trial, with the prosecution calling for her death. But, just before the verdict was handed down, her master, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, the legendary General of the 501st Legion, had found the true culprit, a fellow Jedi named Barriss Offee, and Ahsoka had been exonerated.

The articles said that she had disappeared afterwards, but Zyon knew where she had disappeared to. Nar Shaddaa. And his ship.

It all made sense now. Her skill with a vibroblade. Her piloting skills. Her ability to get information from Hutt guards. Her anger at the Jedi for the injustice they forced her to endure.

Syr spoke and broke Zyon out of his thoughts, “Something tells me you’re going to need some armor going into Nar Shaddaa. I have some friends who’ve got access to specialized armor, including stuff that won’t inhibit force abilities. I’ll have them deliver it to your usual spaceport on Nar Shaddaa.”

“Thanks Syr.” Zyon said.

Syr held up a hand, his usually jovial face serious. “You won’t be able to keep living in denial of who you once were. She’ll find out, probably on Nar Shaddaa.”

“I’ll tell her when I’m ready,” Zyon said, his tone obvious that he did not wish to keep discussing this.

“And when will you be ready?”

As soon as Syr finished that question, they became aware of a commotion over by the bar. Zyon’s trained eyes immediately spotted Ash- Ahsoka in the middle of a group of thugs. She had her fists before her in a martial arts stance Zyon recognized as Echani and her eyes were narrowed in focus.

Zyon smirked to himself, not bothering to answer Syr’s question as he got up and moved towards the brawl that was about to break out. None of the thugs were going home unscathed. Might as well join in the fun.


	4. Bar Fights and Fractured Trust

> _“Respect and fear are merely two sides of the same coin. Law-obeying citizens hold the coin one way; those who wallow in lawlessness hold the other. But neither group can appear weak or indecisive. Ever.”_ Jorus C’Baoth

* * *

Ahsoka had gone to the bar for a simple reason: to get herself a drink. That was all she wanted, but of course, that wasn’t what she got.

She hadn’t done anything, just walked up to the bartender and ordered something when she felt someone shove her in the shoulder. She turned to see an Aqualish grumbling something at her in his native language. She ignored him, turning back to the bar to get her drink from the droid bartender and taking a swig of it.

Sadly, someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned to see a human sneering at her. “Hey you,” he indicated the Aqualish. “He doesn’t like you.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Too kriffing bad for him,” she said as she turned back to her drink.

The human refused to let it go, pulling on her shoulder so she now faced him. “I don’t like you either, _Jedi,_ ” he sneered at the word. “Your people hurt my friends, now we’re going to hurt you.”

Ahsoka sighed as she put her drink down. “Look, I came here to get a drink, not fight with you,” she waved her hand subtly. “It’s not worth the effort.”

The human laughed, a horrible, grating sound. He grabbed her drink and threw it into her face, then dropped the empty mug on the ground, and Ahsoka dropped into a combat stance as it shattered, leaving sharp, jagged pieces of broken ceramic scattered on the ground. “Your mind tricks don’t work on me.” He snarled.

Instinct took over and she blocked out all background noise, or maybe all sound in the cantina had stopped at the shattering of the mug. Her eyes narrowed and she began to slip into the Force, becoming aware of everyone around her. Several presences around her literally trembled with malice and the lust for spilled blood; they were her attackers and the ones she focused on. They surrounded her and Ahsoka slightly wished that she hadn’t left her new vibroblade back in the booth where Zyon and Syr were sitting.

Correction: where they had been seated. Senses heightened by the Force, her montrals picked up the familiar gait of familiar boots on the floor. Zyon was coming in and she could sense his amusement and anticipation. He was spoiling for a fight as much as the thugs were. Behind him, somewhat reluctantly, she could sense Syr lumbering along, stretching out his muscles.

The Force sent a warning, feeling the twitching of the muscles in the human’s arms, and in less than a split second, Ahsoka had shifted her stance so the human’s fist, which would have clocked her right in the jaw, breezed by her face in the perfect position for Ahsoka to grab it, twist it, and, using her body as a fulcrum, throw the human over her shoulder onto the bar counter.

It all happened in less than a second, and the swiftness of her movements made the rest of her attackers hesitate before they decided to swarm her. Ahsoka dropped and swung her feet in an ankle sweep that took two of her attackers to the ground, then proceeded to roll out of the way of three more who tried to swarm her while she was on the ground.

Meanwhile, Zyon had grabbed a nearby bottle and smashed it against the back of one thug’s skull. Another, the Aqualish, turned to attack him, but Zyon blocked the Aqualish’s punch with his forearm, then delivered a jab to the alien’s jaw. He followed up with a knee to the alien’s gut and the Aqualish dropped like a stone, falling backwards into a table.

Ahsoka got back on her feet, but reacted just a hair to slow as a thug punched her across the face, sending her slamming into the bar. The thug, a human, wrapped his arms around hers, trying to immobilize her. Ahsoka slammed her head back, smashing his nose with the back of her montrals. He stumbled backwards, releasing his grip on her.

She winced as pain shot through her sensitive lekku. That would leave a mark. Shaking it off, Ahsoka spun and delivered a roundhouse that sent the human flying back into another table.

Syr had reached the fight and headbutted the first thug he reached. His tough, leathery skin meant that he came out relatively unharmed, but the same could not be said for the human thug as the horns and spikes on Syr’s face left the thug’s face a bloody mess. He’d live.

The human Ahsoka had thrown over her shoulder whipped out a knife and launched himself at Ahsoka, whose back was turned to him. Ahsoka felt him coming through the Force and quickly sidestepped, grabbed his arm, punched the elbow in to make the arm buckle as it twisted, and pulled it behind the human’s back. She then pushed him straight towards Zyon, who grabbed another bottle and smashed it across the human’s face. He slumped to the ground.

Another thug launched herself over the bar counter, tumbling to the ground on top of Ahsoka. The female zabrak landed blow after blow on Ahsoka’s prone form, while Ahsoka did her best to block them. She managed to get her knees up into a sort-of fetal position, then kicked out, hitting the zabrak in the gut. Zyon pulled the winded zabrak off of Ahsoka and sent her stumbling over to Syr, who delivered a swift blow to the back of the zabrak’s head.

Zyon offered Ahsoka a hand and she took it, pulling herself to her feet. He surveyed the carnage around them: four of the thugs unconscious on the floor, three tables overturned, and shattered glass and ceramic everywhere. He turned to Ahsoka and smirked, “Trouble seems to follow you doesn’t it?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Hey don’t look at me. They started it.”

Four thugs remained and they shared uneasy glances between them. They could either back off and lose face, or risk bodily injury by continuing the fight they knew they could not win.

Ahsoka leaned over to Zyon, whispering out of the corner of her mouth. “50 credits says they attack like the idiots they are.”

Zyon laughed and shook his head. “No way in hell am I losing 50 credits.”

And sure enough, the four remaining thugs charged.

They never stood a chance.

Several seconds later, all four were either unconscious or so dazed they might as well be. Zyon turned to the cantina’s manager, who came running out of the back office. He flipped a few credits to the manager. “Sorry about the mess.”

Quickly, before anyone could stop them, they grabbed their stuff from the booth and left. Outside the cantina, Zyon turned to Syr. “Thanks, Syr. We’ll contact you once we reach Nar Shaddaa.”

Syr nodded and grinned. “I’ll have the shipment ready for you. It’ll already be paid for, so don’t worry about paying my agent. It was great seeing you again, Zyon. You always find a way to get the blood flowing” He wrapped an obviously uncomfortable Zyon into a giant hug, then turned to Ahsoka. “It was nice meeting you Miss Ashla.” Syr extended a hand and Ahsoka took it.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Syr. Take care of yourself.”

* * *

Anakin Skywalker was woken suddenly by someone pounding on the door to his room. He almost thought that he had accidentally locked Ahsoka out and she wanted to get in. It had happened before.

But then Anakin’s heart sank as he remembered that Ahsoka was not coming back. She was out there somewhere, alone and defenseless in the galaxy, with bounties placed on her head. He wanted to go out there and find her. Find her and bring her home to himself and the 501st Legion. But he couldn’t.

The Council wouldn’t allow it. He had been ordered to stay here on Coruscant so he could center himself. They didn’t understand what they were asking of him, he would not let go of Ahsoka and forget her like they had.

Her only presence left in his life now was the room that was connected to his. They had shared these quarters for years, becoming siblings in all but blood. She was one of the few people, those being Padme, Obi-Wan, and Chancellor Palpatine, who he could tell things he told no one else. Anakin ran a hand over her old lightsabers, which had been found by clones and given to him. Anakin kept them here with him, ready and waiting for Ahsoka to return.

The pounding on his door came again, and this time, Anakin heard a voice alongside it. A familiarly calm, precise voice with a clipped Coruscanti accent: Obi-Wan.

_“Anakin! Are you there? We have news on Ahsoka.”_

A lot faster than usual, the door to Anakin Skywalker’s quarters flew open to allow Obi-Wan entry. He had no sooner spent a second inside before he was baraged by questions. Anakin was speaking so fast Obi-Wan couldn’t discern what his former padawan wanted to know. He held his hands up before him. “Slow down, Anakin. You’re speaking faster than the tentacles on an angry vaapad.”

Anakin sat down on his bed, holding his head in his hands. “Sorry, Master. I’m just worried about Ahsoka.”

“So am I, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, sitting across from Anakin. “Mind if I make some tea?”

Anakin laughed. Only Obi-Wan would ask to make tea after stoking Anakin’s interest about Ahsoka. Seriously, what was Obi-Wan’s obsession with tea?

As Obi-Wan did so, Anakin didn’t let the point be forgotten, “What news about Ahsoka do you have?”

“Coruscant Security received a notice a couple hours ago about a bar fight in the Old Galactic Market,” Obi-Wan said, continuing to make his favorite drink. “The nearest clone unit, part of the 501st, was sent to investigate.”

“What does this have to do with Ahsoka?” Anakin asked.

“Patience, Anakin,” Obi-Wan responded with a chuckle in his voice. “If you give me a minute, I’ll get there. No one was killed, but several people were injured. The manager of the cantina it happened in claimed that it started when a gang of mercenaries accosted a young togruta.”

“That means nothing,” Anakin sighed and looked away. “There are countless young togruta in the galaxy. Any number could be on Coruscant.”

“You have a point, Anakin” Obi-Wan agreed. “But when they informed Rex that the lead merc had called the togruta ‘Jedi’, Rex demanded that the security tapes be viewed.”

Anakin looked up, hope in his eyes. “And?”

Obi-Wan detached a datapad from his belt and handed it to Anakin. “Here’s the tape. Rex sent it to me when you didn’t answer your comlink.”

Anakin pulled up the footage and his heart leaped into his throat. He’d recognize those montrals anywhere! He didn’t care much about the fight that broke out, he knew Ahsoka would come out on top. His heart and mind were filled with one singular thought: Ahsoka was here.

Ahsoka was _alive_.

That was all that mattered to him. If Ahsoka was alive, Anakin could find her and protect her. 

He could bring her home.

But something was off. 

Ahsoka was not alone. She had friends: a stocky Nikto with a constant smile on his face, much like Master Fisto; and a human male who looked somewhat like Master Windu. They split up shortly after leaving the cantina, the Nikto splitting off and Ahsoka and the human going their own way.

“Master,” Anakin asked, his brow creasing, “who are the others?”

Obi-Wan sipped some of his tea. “We’re not sure, and won’t know for some time. Apparently, Ahsoka and her new friends left Coruscant shortly afterwards, before they could be identified. Rex asked Republic Intelligence to discover who they are. Relax Anakin,” he said in response to Anakin’s dejected, yet tense posture. “Ahsoka can take care of herself. You taught her, after all.”

Anakin let out a shaky breath, “Sorry, Master. I just worry for her.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, a small smile appearing on his face. “You feel somewhat guilty over what happened, don’t you?”

“I… yes, Master. But is that wrong? Is it wrong that I can’t stop myself from grieving over the loss of someone who was so close to me?”

“It is only natural that you feel sorrow over what has happened, Anakin. Grief alone holds no danger,” Obi-Wan said as he stroked his beard. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m always willing. Remember, you’re not the only one who's lost someone they care about.”

“I know, Master.” Anakin said, remembering Obi-Wan’s ill-fated secret mission to Mandalore and his failure to save the woman he loved. “Were they able to track where Ahsoka was headed?”

Obi-Wan set his tea down on a table, his face grim. “Master?” Anakin asked wearily. What place could make that reaction in his master?

“Nar Shaddaa.”

* * *

“Ah... the beautiful stench of decay and desperate living.” Zyon quipped as the corellian freighter slipped and threaded through Nar Shaddaa’s orbital traffic, the fetid ball known as Nal Hutta hanging behind the brightly lit Smuggler’s Moon. He sensed that his secretive crewmember was walking toward him. “Well, here we are Ashla... the Smuggler's Moon. The gaping maw of Nal Hutta, swallowing all the cargo and space port thugs the galaxy has to offer.” The ship descended from space into the atmosphere, coming into view of the skyscrapers and floating platforms. “Welcome to Nar Shaddaa: towering buildings kilometers high and miles deep, with canyons so wide you could have a dogfight in them. Word of warning - watch where you step, or you'll fall for hours.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ash… Ahsoka said dryly as she walked into the cockpit, wiping engine grease from her hands and face. This elicited a full-blown laugh from Zyon, and she crossed her arms in mock annoyance, “What? It’s true.” She sat down with a huff, “I don’t know what was worse. Falling who knows how far down a Nar Shaddaa canyon or having to fix that piece of bantha poodoo you call an engine.”

“How dare you disrespect my ship!” Zyon yelled in fake outrage. “I can’t imagine anything worse than losing my ship.”

Ahsoka chuckled, “So remind me of the plan again. We land, hope we don’t run into the Exchange or Hutt Cartel, and try to find a lone Weequay who is hopefully alive and hope that he has the information on where Braldeq went?”

“Basically.”

“Wonderful,” Ahsoka sighed, “Let’s get started.”

The freighter descended further lower into the ecumenopolis of Nar Shaddaa, leaving the brightly lit splendor of the Promenade behind them, diving down into the darker lower levels. Finally, it set down on a vacant and sketchy landing pad. “Are we going to be okay on this landing pad?” Ahsoka asked as they walked down the boarding ramp.

“Sure, most of the landing pads around here are unclaimed... or should be. They're pretty badly maintained, so they're not safe to land on. Well, I mean, not this one, but they all have the reputation, so we should be all right. I think.”

Ahsoka looked warily around the landing pad and at the open airspace around them, running a hand on the side of the ship’s hull. “The ship looks a little exposed.”

Zyon shrugged, “Maybe a little, but landing here means we didn't have to transmit our ID signature, and you know what trouble that always brings.”

“Any problems with the docking authorities? If trouble’s coming, I’d just as soon know it now.”

Zyon grinned and laughed lightly. “No, but I forgot to tell them we were landing. This sector's a dead zone, no one cares too much who flies in and out of here as long as they're not carrying cargo that the Exchange or the Hutts might want a piece of. Don't get your hopes up from what you see here, though - as soon as we hit the main sector, that's when the smell... and the mobs... can get pretty bad.”

Ahsoka scrunched up her nose again, obviously remembering what had happened when she was last here. Zyon decided to speak, “Come on. We need to rendezvous with a friend in the Nikto Sector. He’s got some equipment and information on where Das-Lenn Akboc could possibly be.”

“Then let’s get going,” Ahsoka said as she slung her new vibroblade across her back.

As they made the trip up over to the Nikto Sector on a speeder bike that they had bought before leaving Coruscant, Zyon looked at Nar Shaddaa around them. Nar Shaddaa was an amalgamation of contrasts. The planet teemed with life, while death was everywhere.

The Duros Sector, once one of the poorest sectors on Nar Shaddaa had been the recipient of immense funding and attention from the Trade Federation and was now a cosmopolitan haven in the Outer Rim. 

The Red Light Sector was best known for its illicit entertainment, offering services such as bodily enhancements, implants, and other unspeakable things. Alongside the surgical and bio-enhancement shops, other shady businesses, in particular slavers and spice dealers, offered various products, taking advantage of the wealth, desperation, or moral flexibility that visitors to the Red Light Sector brought with them. Though Hutt Cartel Security did secure the central area of the Sector for tourists, other areas were filled with crime and the Cartel Security thugs only warned visitors of entering those zones; they did little to stop the violence itself. 

The Promenade had continued to be the focus of incredible spending and was the pride of Nar Shaddaa, where everything glittered and violence was non-existent. The Hutts wouldn’t allow any fighting on their glittering jewel of Nar Shaddaa, despite the fact that anywhere else on the planet, you would need to be armed to the teeth just to survive.

The Nikto Sector was no different than the rest of the world. It had been formed thousands of years prior during the Cold War between the Republic and Sith Empire as a place for Nikto to find employment as enforcers for the Hutt Cartel. It was only formally named the Nikto Sector when a Nikto warrior saved his Hutt master’s life, and it was subsequently bequeathed to the warrior. Since that time, the Nikto Sector became an area of Nar Shaddaa that fell under the control of a succession of Nikto gangs that sought the biggest part of the planet's underworld business. Still, it continued to be a good place to live despite the Nikto gangs. It was quiet, clean, and, most importantly, safe. Then the swoop gangs took over. The swoopers terrorized the shopkeepers, attacked innocent civilians on the streets, destroyed homes, and slaughtered anyone brave enough to stand up to them, leaving them bleeding in the gutter while they roared off on their swoop bikes.

It was said that thousands of years ago, a few Jedi, a Republic Special Forces unit, and a smuggler attempted to fix the problems that plagued the Nikto Sector. They succeeded in some areas and failed in others. The swoop gangs still persisted to this day, but they had thinned the swoop gangs’ numbers enough that the occupants of the Nikto Sector were able to fight back against the gangs and secure a foothold. Fighting in the Nikto Sector would continue for countless centuries afterwards with another gang taking over the remnants of the last.

By now, a sense of stalemate had settled over the district. The sound and flashes of blaster fire still echoed and flickered through the streets and alleys, but the small spaceport that was there was controlled by the resident militia that fought the gangs. It was there that Zyon and Ahsoka parked their speeder and made their way over to a Nikto who stood leaning against a small transport.

“Syr send you?” Zyon said as he walked up to the Nikto, a hand resting on the butt of his blaster pistol.

The Nikto nodded. “I’ve got what you wanted. Blaster packs, grenades, and some armor.” He opened the lid of a crate. He tossed a box of blaster power packs over to Zyon, before he pulled out a smaller box and handed it to Ahsoka. “For you,” the Nikto said.

Ahsoka’s brow, or where her eyebrows would be if togruta had hair, scrunched in confusion. “Wha-?”

The Nikto indicated Zyon, “Requested for you by him and bought by Syr.” He turned to Zyon and held out a datapad. “I’ve got the information you wanted as well. The Weequay is now a slave, punishment for losing the Exchange’s piece of Clartra Sanfol’s map. He’s hidden in the Exchange stronghold in the Corellian Sector.

“Place is locked up tighter than a Hutt’s treasure vault. I managed to obtain a map of the place, including the ventilation ducts. That’s your best shot of getting in undetected. To enter them, you’ll need the codes I downloaded on this datapad. Once you get inside, Akboc’s held in the torture room, the Exchange boss likes to punish those who fail him. Once you get what you want, you’ll probably have to fight your way out.”

“Sounds like a suicide mission,” Zyon heard Ahsoka say below her breath.

Zyon shrugged. “Hey, if I die, I want to be buried with my ship.”

“Hmm,” the Nikto grunted. “Best of luck to you. You’ll need it.”

With that, the Nikto boarded his transport and took off, leaving them standing alone on the landing pad.

Ahsoka opened the box that the Nikto had given her and her eyes widened in shock. “What is this?” She pulled out a full-body set of armor that had a mottled green color to it. It was light and flexible, but would offer protection nonetheless. The fabric was reinforced with armorweave and would help dissipate blaster bolts, while the fabric itself was stitched over armor plating, yet still retained a silky texture. It also had a hood that would cover her montrals.

“Jal Shey? Nice.” Zyon said with a raised eyebrow. Zyon knew that the Jal Shey were force-sensitives, and they created their armor with that in mind. Ahsoka would be able to feel the Force and manipulate it easily in that armor, as it was a little known fact that certain types of armor would prevent the wearer from using various Force powers.

It was plated on the front and back, over the shoulders, and at the elbows and knees with armorweave woven into the fabric that covered the plates. The plating appeared to be Mandalorian light armor, which was excellent for diverting anything from light to medium blaster fire, even at close range. Not to mention beskar was also quite good at deflecting lightsaber slashes, although Zyon doubted they’d come across any Jedi or Sith in an Exchange base. A skirt hung from the belt of the armor, much like the kama skirts that senior clone troopers would wear out in battle. The skirt would protect Ahsoka from glancing melee blows and low-flying shrapnel.

“Why would you ask for Jal Shey?” Ahsoka said, frowning at him.

“Something wrong with it?” Zyon responded, a frown starting to cross his face as well. He thought she would be happy with it. _Typical_ , he thought, _do something nice for a Jedi…_ “Cause if you want, you can walk right into that Exchange in that jumpsuit you fell off a cliff in. I don’t think that’ll stop a blaster or a vibroblade. Will it, Ahsoka?”

“No, it’s just… Jal Shey armor is only really used by those who are-” she cut herself off with a gasp. “What did you say?”

It was then that Zyon realized his mistake. He had called her by her name.

Her true name.

* * *

At first, Ahsoka was merely confused. She knew who the Jal Shey were, they were an ancient order of force users who studied the Force from a purely intellectual perspective, forsaking the more spiritual paths taken by the Jedi and Sith. They were typically known for diplomacy, being on par with the greatest of Jedi negotiators, but, unlike the Jedi and Sith, they were less successful in physical pursuits, even where the Force was involved. It was because of that lack of the physical abilities of the Jedi that Jal Shey members often wore various types of armor to protect themselves and augment their physical abilities.

Did Zyon know about her past as a Jedi, as Jal Shey armor was typically used by only force sensitives. Was it just a happy coincidence that Zyon had picked out one of the few types of armor that didn’t restrict force abilities for her?

She decided to ask, and his answer was full of his typical sarcasm that she for the most part ignored, except for the last part. Where he said her name.

Her _real_ name.

He had said Ahsoka. Not Ashla… _Ahsoka_.

He knew who she was. Not a simple mechanic from Nar Shaddaa, but a former Jedi Padawan who was without her lightsaber. But how much did he know?

“Did you just call me Ahsoka?” She asked, trying to see if it was just a slip of the tongue or if she was in danger.

“I did.” Zyon said, crossing his right arm over his left in front of him. She recognized the stance, it was one she had been taught long ago as part of her martial arts training. At first glance, he appeared relaxed and open to an attack, but his left hand would be a fist and his right arm was in a prime position to either make a chop or deflect a blow. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now. Who are you? Really.”

“You already know, don’t you?” Ahsoka said. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What about you? Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“About what?” Zyon was clearly taken off guard by her question, so she pressed onwards.

“About your past. I’ve been on your crew for about a month and not once did I press about your personal life. You clearly have secrets you didn’t want to talk about, so I respected that. But I’ll ask again, is there anything you want to tell me about your past?”

“No, but since you're asking about it, know this:” Zyon stepped up to her so she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. It was times like this that she hated being on the shorter side. Sure she was tall if one included her montrals, but those could rise a considerable distance above her eyes. “If I wanted to reveal anything about my past, I would have come and told you. Anything else?”

She stood her ground, “You know my history obviously. I think I have a right to know more about you.”

“Is this an interrogation?” He gave a short laugh. “If so, you're terrible at it, especially for an ex-Jedi. Why don't you just crawl in my head and dig out whatever you're looking for rather than asking about it?”

Ahsoka widened her stance and stood with her arms akimbo. “If you've got a problem, let's settle it right now.”

“You know what? I helped you when you fell into a pile of crates. I didn’t abandon you in the square on Taleucema. I came back for you on Tatooine and had your back in that bar fight. If I hadn't been there, you wouldn't even be standing here.” Zyon scoffed as he counted on his fingers. “I'm trying to help you. I don't know why I'm bothering.”

“Why are you protecting me?” Ahsoka said, the marking where her eyebrows would be was raised.

“I don’t know,” Zyon shrugged. “I don’t understand it myself half of the time. Maybe you shouldn’t look a free ronto in the mouth before you buy it.”

“You should if a Hutt is giving it to you.”

“You know what? I never asked you about the obvious inconsistencies in your stories and actions. Sure, I had my suspicions, but I set them aside because you had earned your keep on my ship. I’ve heard all about you, Ahsoka Tano. The Chosen One’s Prodigy. The Jedi Order’s finest Padawan. The bold and daring Commander of the 501st Legion. I’ve heard all the exploits of you leading your clone slaves into battles where only few of you escape alive. I’ve heard about battles like Jabiim, Teth, Felucia, Kamino, and Umbara. What makes you think you've got the right to interrogate me on anything? You've got plenty of lives to answer for - all you Jedi do.” Zyon’s eyes were smoked with anger, his voice like the roar of a starship engine.

“If you've got something to say, then say it.” Ahsoka snarled, the fangs all togruta had showing in her expression.

“All those Jedi who died in this war, and all of their clone slaves who died following them, deserved it. Every last one of them.”

Ahsoka was shocked. The amount of hate and anger flowing out of Zyon crashed over her like a tidal wave threatening to pull her under and drown her in darkness. “They did not deserve it! How could you even say that?”

Zyon grinned menacingly, his voice quiet and calm, yet full of malice. It was the voice of a predator. “Jedi lie. They manipulate. Every act of charity or kindness they do, you can drag it out squirming into the light and see it for what it is. The galaxy doesn't need Jedi arrogance or Jedi hypocrisy.”

“No!” Ahsoka yelled. Yes, the Council might have ignored her and betrayed her to maintain their political stature. Barriss might have manipulated and used her for her own machinations, but most of the Jedi she knew were kind, caring, and compassionate. Anakin had never, and would never betray her or use her for his own means. Neither would Obi-Wan, nor a majority of the Jedi she knew. The whole order could not be judged on the actions of a handful of Jedi. “The Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy! You’re describing the Sith!”

“The Jedi… the Sith… the Republic… the Separatists… you don't get it, do you?” Zyon threw up his arms in a gesture of frustration. “To the galaxy, they're the same thing; just men and women with too much power, squabbling over religion, philosophy, and money while the rest of us burn.” Zyon sighed, seeming to talk from personal experience. “At least the Sith and Separatists are honest about what they kill for. The Jedi are pacifists, except in times of war. They're teachers, except when it comes to telling their students the truth. And when they save you, it's only so you can suffer more.”

Something in Ahsoka snapped. Again, she felt the blistering heat of white-hot anger building behind her eyes. Baring her fangs again, she grabbed the hilt of her vibroblade and whipped it out to a guard position before her. “If you wish to die, keep talking.”

“Go ahead and try.” Zyon made a dismissive motion with his hands. “I might be a little more than you can handle... but I expect that kind of arrogance from a Jedi.” He turned his back to her, rummaging around the crate that his Nikto contact had left. “Let’s get moving, the codes aren’t going to stay the same and I don’t want to stay on this world longer than I have to.” He turned around and looked at her, all the malice and hatred she had seen a few moments ago was gone, replaced by resolve. “Now you can either take the armor, leave it and walk in unprotected, or just go off on your own. It’s your choice.”

Ahsoka looked back and forth from the Jal Shey armor to Zyon, who was gearing up for the mission himself. She could strike off on her own, but then she’d have no credits and no ship. She’d be back where she had started.

On the other hand, if she stayed with Zyon, she might end up dead because of his anger and hatred towards the Jedi. Conversely, if she stayed, she might learn the full story and be able to help him. She could show him that not all Jedi were as he thought, even if she was an ex-Jedi. However, as nice as he had been with the quality of the equipment he had given her for this mission, she didn’t like people doing things for her or giving her free stuff. She hated having something she felt she hadn’t earned.

In the end, it was a question of whether she could swallow her pride and take the armor. In the end, it wasn’t hard at all. Infiltrating a heavily defended base in armor, or her thin jumpsuit that had nearly fused to her chest the last time she had been hit by a blaster.

Ahsoka took the armor.


	5. Infiltration and Invasion

> _“In battle, the words are swept away, giving way to action - mercy, sacrifice, anger, fear. These are pure moments of expression.” Brianna_

* * *

The Exchange: a name that would make anyone from the lowest debtor to a hardened gangster quake in fear. The crime group was ruthless, efficient, and methodical. They dealt in spice refinement and smuggling, extortion, weapon trafficking, slave trading, and bounty hunting, and nearly everyone in the Outer Rim had heard of them. They had been known to place bounties on people worth so much the bounty hunter could buy an entire planet.

At one point, the Exchange had rivaled and even surpassed the Hutt Cartel in terms of strength and wealth. They had grown in power until the Cartel decided to not tolerate it anymore, and assassinated the Exchange boss on Nar Shaddaa. Ever since then, the Exchange and Hutts had been involved in an endless conflict that spanned the galaxy over territory, personnel, and wealth. The Exchange had survived to the point that the Cartel settled in for a cold war of sorts.

People knew that to piss off the Exchange or go counter to their interests was to sign your own death warrant. It was for that reason that the news announcement shocked anyone:

_“The Corellian Sector has become a warzone, with firefights between the intergalactic crime syndicate known as the Exchange and Cartel forces raging all over the district. Reports indicate that the conflict started after a call came in saying that a building in the Corellian Sector belonging to the Exchange was attacked by unknown forces, as the caller reportedly heard explosions and blaster fire coming from inside. Hutt Cartel Security forces investigated and came under heavy fire from the building’s inhabitants. There are many dead and injured security officers lying in the streets; the Security forces seemingly unable to make headway against the Exchange gangsters despite heroic attempts to rescue the wounded. Civilians in the Corellian Sector are encouraged to stay in their homes. Reports of Jedi involvement are unconfirmed at this time…”_

* * *

**Earlier…**

Tseqat Du was awoken by his holocom buzzing. Grunting angrily, he swiped at it. Nobody disturbed him from his sleep without good reason. This better be worth it or else whoever was calling him was as good as dead.

Tseqat was the local Exchange boss in the Corellian Sector of Nar Shaddaa, and this building was his secret headquarters. The Corellian Sector was the perfect place to hide it. 

The Corellian Sector of Nar Shaddaa was a high-rise district with multiple casinos and trendy hotspots that attracted patrons from all walks of life. Named for the Corellian-descended Humans that formed the original core of the region, it was dominated politically and economically by the Hutts and said humans, although people of many species lived in the Corellian Sector. This allowed Tseqat to blend into the background along with many of his subordinates. 

The sector housed many public merchant areas and an ill-kept warehouse district. The most profitable enterprise found in this region was the gambling industry, with many debtors that owed the Exchange money. This made it a perfect location to run extortion operations. 

The entire sector often reeked of refuse and debris as repulsorlift garbage scows floated from level to level collecting garbage. Crime was abundant in the Corellian Sector, but the authorities largely ignored the smaller offenses and partially encouraged the occasional bounty killing. Professional hunters such as Dengar were able to find easy work tracking down wanted criminals throughout the various city-levels. Nobody would notice or care if a few people disappeared to work in Tseqat’s slave factory.

No one but his fellow Exchange bosses knew it was here. A long time ago, there had only been one Exchange boss per planet. But history had shown that when that one boss died, it would throw Exchange operations into chaos. It had happened with Davik Kang on Taris, Goto here on Nar Shaddaa, and Loppak Slusk on Telos. The death of Ukabi at the hands of the Sith Empire thousands of years ago only cemented the fact that the organization of the Exchange needed to change. 

There were now several bosses on each planet the Exchange had a presence on. Those bosses were under the direct control of the leader of the Exchange, a person whose identity was unknown to all but his most trusted advisors. If one boss on a planet got out of line and started working counter to Exchange interests, then the other bosses on the planet would eliminate him.

Accepting the call, Tseqat recognized the person on the other end as one of the guards stationed at the entrance to the building. The Quarren had set up his headquarters in a local business, some metalworking factory that had its office in front. This enabled him to keep the processing of spice hidden in his factory, as well as the slave labor that ran his operation, as any visitors would only be allowed in the office section.

“Boss Du,” the sentry at the front desk bowed his head respectfully. “I have a visitor here who is requesting to see you.”

“I’m not expecting anyone. Who is he?”

“He claims to be a bounty hunter. He says he wants to claim the bounty you posted on the togruta Jedi.”

Tseqat’s beak clacked with excitement. Finally, his Jedi was here. “Show him in.”

* * *

Ahsoka grunted as she was pushed forward roughly, the barrel of a blaster poking her back between her shoulder blades. She stumbled slightly before catching herself, balance wasn’t quite so easy with her hands cuffed behind her.

The offices of the building were spacious and well-decorated, but not so professional that she could clearly tell that many mercenaries milled around with other “employees”. As they ventured deeper and further up in the offices, towards the top floor where she assumed the local Exchange boss had his main office, the decor grew less and less tasteful. She wasn’t surprised. Criminal types always seemed to flaunt their wealth to their visitors, and more often than not said flaunting of wealth just came across as disgusting or repulsive instead of impressive. The artwork displayed was elaborate, but in most cases vulgar.

They were led into a large, expensively decorated office. The desk in the middle appeared to be made out of real wood, not plasteel or durasteel like the one’s she had seen issued by the Republic military. Behind the desk was a Quarren, a squid-like species originating from Mon Cala. She had fought them once during the Battle of Mon Cala, until they had realized they were merely pawns of the Separatists and joined the Mon Calamari in fighting off Separatist forces.

She doubted she’d find a kindred spirit in this Quarren, however.

Said Quarren placed his hands together in front of him as his beak clacked with obvious excitement. He obviously recognized her, but she wasn’t surprised. You’d expect an Exchange boss to remember the faces of the bounties he had posted.

Flanking him, he had a two bodyguards, as well as more in the corners of the room. They all had frighteningly large blaster rifles at rest held across their chests. The Exchange boss probably figured someone being turned in for a bounty would be intimidated by the sight of his enforcers, but Ahsoka remained stoic, her body posture relaxed. It obviously threw the gangster off slightly, as she didn’t appear concerned at all, even though she had a blaster between her shoulder blades.

But that was just her outer appearance, on the inside, she was terrified because she was bound, defenseless, and had a blaster between her shoulder blades held by a man she wasn’t sure she could trust to not blow her head off her shoulders.

The Quarren spoke to the helmeted bounty hunter behind her. /You can put your blaster away. She can’t escape here./

“I’ll keep my blaster out. It took a while to catch this Jedi bitch. She killed my partner, so I’m not taking any chances.”

Ahsoka decided to speak up, “I’m not going to-”

A smack on the back of her montrals silenced her. The blow from the butt of the blaster wasn’t as hard as it appeared to be, but she still fell to the ground.

“Shut up!” The bounty hunter yelled as she groggily got to her knees. “Stay there.”

Ahsoka did as she was told and appeared to bow her head in submission causing the Quarren to chortle in glee. /Good to see the Jedi whelp knows her place./

“What about my pay?” The bounty hunter said, his blaster still pointed at Ahsoka’s head.

The Quarren shrugged and his mannerisms seemed to imply disappointment. /Come now, my friend. Let us be civil about this. I am Tseqat Du, local Exchange boss here in the Corellian Sector. Who might you be?/

The bounty hunter shrugged. “My name is unimportant,” he grunted. “I just want my pay and this kriffing Jedi off my hands.”

A couple guards moved from their positions at the walls towards Ahsoka, but the bounty hunter waved his blaster over at them, causing the other armed guards to raise their rifles at him. “Credits first,” the bounty hunter said as he shook his head. “Then you get the girl.”

The Quarren, Tseqat Du, chortled. /You see friend, I have a saying. ‘Never give away what you don’t have to.’ You are repaying my hospitality with aggression, so we will be taking the Jedi off your hands in exchange for your life./

“And if I refuse?” The bounty hunter’s response was paired with him pointing his blaster at Tseqat Du.

/Dust this fool human!/ Tseqat Du yelled to a dark-skinned human male with a cruel smile on his face. The man obviously was Tseqat Du’s chief enforcer. /Then take the Jedi to the interrogation room./

“I’m going to enjoy this,” the human guard grinned as the other guards fanned out around the bounty hunter and Ahsoka, cutting off any retreat.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Ahsoka replied with a smirk as she delved down into the Force, trailing the circuits inside the binders that kept her hands bound behind her back. Finding what she wanted, Ahsoka twitched a finger slightly, reversing the polarity of the cuffs so that they sprung open and released her arms. In the same motion, she had launched herself into a forward roll past the human, calling towards the bounty hunter’s other holstered blaster with her mind. It released itself and flew into her waiting palm with an audible smack.

Her movement was so fast that the dark-skinned human barely realized what had happened before his forehead blew outwards right between his eyes from a blaster bolt fired from behind him. Two others screamed as they were thrown into the walls, courtesy of Ahsoka, who had thrust her hands outwards. A hail of blaster fire from the bounty hunter cut them both down.

The butt of a blaster rifle swung at Ahsoka, who ducked the arc of the attack and came up underneath the guard of the wielder, bringing up her fist to break the human’s nose. They screamed and dropped the rifle, clutching their nose with one hand and drawing their blaster pistol with the other. Ahsoka was faster, silencing the human’s screams with a blaster bolt to the head.

The bounty hunter came up to Ahsoka’s back and faced off with two of the four remaining guards. He shot one in the knee, then through the hand, and made the kill shot as the guard dropped their weapon. Ahsoka reached behind her and unsheathed her vibroblade that had been slung across the bounty hunter’s back, then in the same motion she slashed an attacker, adding him to the strewn mess of corpses.

The final two looked at all the bodies around them and suddenly seemed to remember that they had a pressing engagement anywhere else but here. They ran for the exit, but one of the sculptures that adorned the room suddenly flew in front of them and bounty hunter finished them off.

The two remaining people in the room, Ahsoka and the bounty hunter, whirled towards each other. Ahsoka had her vibroblade up in a defensive posture and her blaster aimed squarely at the bounty hunter’s chest. Similarly, the bounty hunter had his blaster aimed at Ahsoka. The air in the room, despite the ceasing of battle, seemed to crackle with tension and suspicion.

The bounty hunter cocked his head to the side, looking past the togruta. “The quarren ran. Let’s find him.”

* * *

They found that Tseqat Du hadn’t run far. He had retreated to what were probably his personal quarters through a door behind his expensive looking desk. An alarm resounded through the speakers above them. Tseqat Du had obviously tripped the alarm in an attempt to kill the two invaders.

/Stay away from me!/ Was the scream that came in response to pounding on the locked door. The bounty hunter gestured to it and Ahsoka nodded, reaching back with one arm before thrusting it forwards.

The door shattered, obviously not a blast door or anything sturdy like the door to the main office that they had closed behind them. Beyond it, Tseqat Du squealed with fear and lunged for the blaster on a table.

He didn’t quite make it.

Tseqat Du cried in fear as he was pushed away from his only salvation and pinned to a wall. Ahsoka walked in with a hand outstretched, followed by the bounty hunter who took off his helmet to reveal the face of Zyon Vastor. He leveled his blaster at the quarren’s left eye.

Tseqat Du’s beak clacked nervously. His mannerisms obviously indicated that he was terrified of them and he blubbered as he pleaded for his life. /Please! What do you want? I can give you anything you want! You want money?/ He indicated a safe in the wall and held out a key. /Take it! It’s yours./

“Money will help,” Zyon smiled as he opened the safe and withdrew a sizeable amount of credits. “But that’s not why we’re here.”

Ahsoka grinned as well, revealing her fangs. “We want information. Namely, the location of a weequay slave named Das-Lenn Akboc.”

Tseqat Du clacked his beak in confusion. /Wait, you came here and did all of this, just for some lowly slave?/

Zyon and Ahsoka both nodded and the quarren sneered at them. /You’ll never find out. I know what you’re after, the treasure of Davik Kang. Akboc lost our chance to get to it, so now I have his position. I will not end up like him./

Zyon sighed dramatically and looked down as he placed his hands on his hips. “How unfortunate. I guess we’ll just have to chop you up like the rest of your men out there,” he held out a hand for Ahsoka’s vibroblade. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Gladly.” Ahsoka said with a smirk, tightening her Force Grip on the quarren’s throat slightly. “He’s no use to us, no need to let him live.”

The quarren looked at her with abject horror, /But- but you’re a Jedi! Jedi don’t kill defenseless prisoners./

Ahsoka shrugged and Zyon grinned maliciously. “I’m no Jedi.”

As Zyon approached, and pounding on the door to the main office started, Tseqat Du squirmed, terrified. /Wait! Wait!/

A couple minutes later, Ahsoka had undone the bolts on the ventilation duct in Tseqat Du’s living quarters and was putting on her new Jal Shey armor over her jumpsuit. It was important that she appeared weak and defeated earlier to surprise the Exchange thugs, but now that the element of surprise was lost, she needed all the protection she could get. As Zyon finished tying up Tseqat Du, Ahsoka disabled the security systems in the ventilation shafts with the codes on the datapad that Syr’s contact had given them.

Tseqat Du chirped from the corner they had left him in. /So you’re just going to leave me here? You won’t kill me?/

Ahsoka responded without looking at him, “You gave us what we wanted and you’re unarmed. There’s no need to kill you.”

/How do you know I won’t cause you trouble the moment I’m freed./

“I don’t.” Ahsoka said, “But you’ve seen what we’ve done here and how much trouble we can cause.”

/You have a good point,/ Tseqat Du conceded. /But I warn you, the Exchange is not bullied! If you push, expect to be pushed back!/

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” Zyon said as he smacked the butt of his blaster across Tseqat Du’s face, knocking him unconscious. “Boring conversation anyways.”

Ahsoka turned to him as he approached the entrance to the ventilation ducts. “Let’s get moving,” she said, hooking the datapad onto the belt of her armor. “After you.”

Zyon smirked and gestured to the opening. “You know what they say: ‘Ladies first.’”

Ahsoka laughed and leaned against the wall, not caring about the pounding on the blast door separating the main office from the rest of the building. “So what are you waiting for?”

“Very funny,” Zyon replied as he rolled his eyes, pulling himself up into the vents.

“Yay!” Ahsoka cheered enthusiastically as she tossed him the datapad she used to deactivate security, now updated from Tseqat Du’s personal terminal. “Now I get to prod you in the back with a blaster.”

“What fun,” Zyon deadpanned, but there was an amused smile on his face as Ahsoka got in behind him and resecured the entrance to the vents with the Force.

The vents were small and narrow, but just large enough for Zyon to crawl forwards on his stomach. It was easier for Ahsoka to move behind him, seeing as how she was smaller and thinner than him, despite the armor she now wore.

Ahsoka was different recently. She had been different ever since Zyon had revealed that he knew who she was. It was almost as if a large weight had been taken off her shoulders. She moved quicker than ever, was more focused and devastating with her combat moves, and seemed much more comfortable with displaying her Force abilities, as evidenced by that previous battle. The benefits of not having something to hide.

In that way, Zyon envied her. He still had secrets of his own that she didn’t know, and they dragged him down. She knew nothing about his past, as did most of the people he worked with, but it was different with her. It was almost as if being connected to Ahsoka had made him afraid of who he had been. She had dredged his past life up from the depths of his soul and placed it before him and, try as he might, Zyon could not force it back down again.

They made quick progress through the vents, Zyon deactivating any security measures with the datapad as they went and using it to make the correct turns. The breeze flowing into his face indicated that they were going the correct direction. The vents were narrow, but with the combination of Zyon wriggling and a few Force shoves from Ahsoka, they made good progress. A grate with a small fan blocked their path, and it took a minute to remove the bolts securing it and cut the fan’s power. Finally, they had reached the large, vertical shaft that was their goal: the central ventilation shaft.

Above and below them, large fans spun quickly and dangerously as they blew air throughout the building. Light filtered in between the slats in the grate holding the fan above them. On one side of the shaft was an old ladder, which was probably used for maintenance.

Squeezing out of the line that ran to Tseqat Du’s quarters, Zyon grasped one of the rungs on the ladder. The metal rung groaned, the ladder was obviously old and in need of replacement, but it held. Pulling himself up and out of the vent, Zyon began to climb. 

Their goal was one of the upper ventilation shafts that led into the Exchange’s slave factory. They wanted to get up onto higher ground, where they could survey the factory for their target and remain undercover.

Ahsoka pulled herself onto the ladder below him and they began to climb. It was about a 10 meter climb to the duct that they wanted and the wind picked up as they got closer and closer to the upper fan.

Zyon reached up to grab a rusted rung on the ladder and it squealed as he pulled himself up. The squeal got louder as he reached for the next rung and just before he reached it, the rusted rung snapped off.

With no handholds, Zyon fell down. Down towards the fan that would cut him to shreds.

* * *

Ahsoka heard the squealing and snapping of metal and then a shout, followed by a shape falling past her. She spun her head and saw Zyon falling down the ventilation shaft towards the fan at the bottom, which she knew would kill him if he fell through it. Those fan blades would slice him apart at the speed they were going at.

Ahsoka secured herself to the ladder and reached out an arm as she simultaneously delved into the Force. She could feel the small oscillations of energy echoing out from the systems powering both fans. She could shut them off, but that could tip off the Exchange that they were in the vents. Those wouldn’t do at all for options, but she had one left.

She felt Zyon’s presence, a mixture of shock, anger, and terror. She latched onto it immediately, gripping his body and pulling with all her strength to counteract gravity.

Below her, Zyon slowed as he neared the spinning fan blades and his eyes snapped open in surprise. There he was, his face mere inches from the whirling fan blades of death, suspended in mid-air. He flailed, trying to grip something, but his hands only landed on smooth metal.

Ahsoka yanked with her mind and Zyon jerked upwards away from what would have killed him. He rotated in mid-air and his eyes widened even further as he saw who had saved him.

Zyon continued to float upwards past Ahsoka until he was level with the ventilation grate that was their target. Still suspended in air, Zyon got to work, removing the cover and crawling in. It was only then that Ahsoka let her arm relax and slipped out of the Force. She quickly scaled the rest of the ladder, much safer due to her lighter body and slimmer frame, and shimmied her way into the vent to find Zyon staring at her.

“Did you need that act of ‘Jedi kindness’?” Ahsoka said with a big smirk on her face.

Zyon rolled his eyes, but a slight smile graced his expression. “I guess I did. Thank you.”

“So… I just saved you,” Ahsoka said, rubbing some salt into the wound. “Does this mean you’re suffering?”

Zyon chuckled. “Maybe a little.”

Ahsoka grinned mischievously. “I could always pull you back out and throw you at the fan instead.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Aww… it would have been fun,” Ahsoka sighed with mock disappointment. “Offer’s still open though.”

Zyon shook his head, the levity between them easing his adrenaline from nearly being chopped into pieces. It also helped lessen the tension that had been between them ever since their confrontation in the Nikto Sector. “As fun as this is,” he said sadly. “We need to get moving. It won’t take long for the guards to realize where we went.”

It didn’t take long for them to make it to the end of the ventilation duct and the two infiltrators climbed out of the duct onto a small catwalk high above the factory floor. Ahsoka assumed it was used for maintenance on the roof or pipes crisscrossing the ceiling and upper walls.

The first thing she noticed was the heat. The air was hot and sticky from the foundry below them where slave labor was used to pour molten durasteel into casts to create innocent droids. However, suspended in those molds would often be packets of spice and other illegal commodities. The heat that the molten metal gave off instantly made sweat break out over their faces and their clothes plaster themselves to their bodies. 

Moving felt almost as if one was underwater, yet the two infiltrators managed to make their way over to a vantage point where they could observe the floor of the entire foundry. Ahsoka was surprised, however, by Zyon moving through the heat as if he had been born in it. But how? It was as hot and humid as a jungle in here! 

On the floor below them, slaves moved to and fro operating different pieces of machinery. Neither Ahsoka nor Zyon could figure out how they continued to function as they did in the brutal conditions, but desperation and self-preservation were often strong motivations. Guards in enviro-suits to protect them from the oppressive conditions patrolled the floor with electro whips. Above the floor, but one level below Zyon and Ahsoka, more guards stood watch on a larger catwalk, blaster rifles in hand.

Using a pair of macrobinoculars, Zyon scanned the factory floor, before he handed them to Ahsoka and pointed at someone on the other side of the foundry. Ahsoka scrutinized the weequay in her sights and saw a remarkable similarity to the picture of Das-Lenn Akboc. She nodded and mouthed: _It’s him._

Zyon nodded and placed his pack before him. He pulled out several metal pieces and fit them together until Ahsoka saw the familiar shape of a rifle in his hands. But on the muzzle was a long, cylindrical tube she recognized as a suppressor and she saw him loading a magazine of slugs, not a power pack or tibanna gas. Zyon was going to use a slugthrower rifle to snipe the guards!

She leaned in and yelled in his ear to be heard over the din of the machinery. “Why use a slugthrower?”

Zyon shrugged and yelled back. “More stealthy. Don’t worry, I’ve used these before.”

Shaking her head in disbelief she moved off, ready to jump down onto the factory floor and take out those guards after Zyon took out the guards on the catwalk. Reaching her spot, Ahsoka meditated, letting the Force flow through her and refuel her exhausted limbs. 

She felt it as he zeroed his scope and drew a bead on the first guard. The poor slaver never knew what hit him as the back of his head exploded like an overripe melon. That was the one thing about slugthrowers Ahsoka didn’t really like. With a blaster, a wound would usually be cauterized by the plasma like a lightsaber would. However, with slugthrowers there was no cauterization, just blood.

And lots of it.

The guard’s body pitched forwards and fell amongst the slaves, who all looked up in shock at the sight of the body falling in their midst. The other guards on the catwalk were scanning for where the shot came from, and Zyon used their confusion to down more of them. As two more fell dead, the rest decided to fire randomly in different directions.

Slaves ran in every direction, seeking cover and shelter. Ahsoka kept some of her attention diverted to where she knew Das-Lenn Akboc was. Extending an arm, she kept the barrels of the guards guns from shooting down at the slaves on the foundry floor.

A few moments later, she felt the last of the catwalk guards’ Force signatures get extinguished and she opened her eyes. Despite the oppressive heat of the Foundry, she felt calm and cool. Drawing her vibroblade and blaster, she leaped off the catwalk to engage the patrolling guards on the ground.

She landed next to one guard and swung her vibroblade across the guards chest, slashing through the enviro-suit and into the human’s flesh. He fell backwards and stopped moving shortly. Another guard charged her, but his head snapped back as Zyon shot him right between the eyes.

Zyon by now was running along the catwalk to reposition himself. When reinforcements came through the foundry doors, he wanted to be able to target them and provide overwatch for his togruta companion.

A guard attacked Ahsoka with his electro whip and she blocked it with her vibroblade. The guard was overconfident thinking that hitting her metal blade with electricity would drop her, but didn’t count on Ahsoka’s insulated hilt that protected her. She twisted the whip out of his hands and sliced through him when he reached for a hidden blaster. The last of the guards ran for the escape to get reinforcements, but were gunned down by either Zyon or Ahsoka.

Some slaves grabbed the weapons of the fallen guards and they all ran for the exits. Both Zyon and Ahsoka didn’t care, the slaves escaping would provide cover for them to slip away in the chaos. However, there was one slave that they couldn’t let escape.

Not yet at least.

Ahsoka spotted Das-Lenn Akboc making a break for it and she responded by outstretching a hand and trapping him in a stasis field. Akboc was immediately suspended in midair, unable to move any of his limbs. Ahsoka left him there as she waited for Zyon to climb down a maintenance ladder and join her on the foundry floor. As the adrenaline from the fight wore off, they again felt the oppressive weight of the hot, sticky air. It was even worse closer to the rivers of molten durasteel that flowed through the foundry.

Das-Lenn Akboc was obviously terrified as they approached him and Ahsoka finally let him out of stasis. “Who… who are you? What do you want with me?”

“Who we are is unimportant,” Zyon responded with sweat pouring down his face and soaking her clothes. “What we want is information.” He pulled out a holo of the missing rodian treasure hunter Stuska Braldeq. “I believe you know who this is.”

Akboc’s eyes went wide with terror and he backed away from the two. “No! Get away from me!” He turned and fled but soon found himself again floating in the air.

Ahsoka laughed as he flailed about. “He must be terrified of us.”

“Obviously,” Zyon chuckled. “He’s going to need a new pair of pants.”

Akboc cowered as he was dropped by Ahsoka. “What do you want from me?”

Zyon knelt down so he was eye to eye with the weequay. “We know Braldeq stole part of the map from you. We want to know where he went next.”

“I don’t know!” Akboc whimpered. 

Zyon frowned and turned to Ahsoka, who shook her head. He was clearly lying. Zyon nodded and turned back to the cowardly weequay. “I could be blind, deaf, comatose, and lobotomized and still know that’s a lie. Try again and tell the truth, or I make you eat your eyeballs.”

“What?” Akboc covered his eyes with his hands. “That’s disgusting.”

“I have to agree,” Ahsoka said with a shrug. “That was a little extreme.”

“Look, if I tell you… will you let me go?” Both Ahsoka and Zyon nodded. At this point, they’d do anything to get what they wanted and out of this hellspawn of a foundry. “Fine. He had an apartment that he used as a base, it was where he interrogated me. He had a holoterminal there and was talking to some contact or other. They said the next part of the map was at a place called the Lightspring on a planet with twin suns.”

Ahsoka nodded, memorizing what Akboc had said. He had not lied this time. “Alright, get out of here.”

As Akboc ran out to where they could hear blaster fire, obviously between the Exchange security goons and escaped slaves, Ahsoka turned to Zyon. “Planet with twin suns? Please tell me that’s not Tatooine.”

“Sounds like it. The only question is where this ‘Lightspring’ is.” He scratched his chin for a moment before a lightbulb obviously went off in his head. “I know someone who might know. An old friend.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Sounds good. But first we have to get out of here.”

They ran through the corridors, evading Exchange thugs when they could, but it was inevitable they would get into a firefight. Rounding a corner, Ahsoka came face to face with a squad of thugs and she was barely able to dive back around the corner as a hail of blaster fire struck the wall behind where she had been standing.

Zyon grabbed a grenade off of his belt and threw it around the corner. There was the scramble of several feet before it detonated. They ran through the carnage caused by the explosion and didn’t look at the mangled bodies it caused.

They had several more encounters similar to this: coming up against squads of Exchange thugs or slaves who just decided to shoot at anyone. Their supply of explosives was rapidly growing thin to the point where they were set upon by at least a dozen Exchange thugs, and had no grenades left. 

Ahsoka and Zyon dove for cover in two doorways across from each other, periodically leaning out to shoot a couple times at the Exchange thugs, who were dug in. Each time they leaned out of cover, a hailstorm of blaster bolts flew right at them. It was a miracle that the two hadn’t been hit yet.

Ahsoka swore as one blaster bolt crackled and sizzled as it flew past her ear, her Force-enhanced reflexes the only thing that prevented that from being a headshot. She punched the door panel and the door next to her opened to reveal a closet.

 _Fierfek!_ No escape there.

Her montrals picked up a high-pitched beeping noise and she whirled to see a grenade bounce on the floor right in between her and Zyon. She immediately seized it with the Force, hurling it as far as she could before it detonated.

She wasn’t quite fast enough.

The grenade was still too close for comfort when it exploded. A Force Shield hastily thrown up by Ahsoka diverted most of the heat and shrapnel, but the shockwave passed through it easily, throwing her backwards into the frame of the doorway. A sharp pain coursed through her head, yet another bruise that would no doubt form on her head-tails.

Her vision swam, too many blaster bolts filling it. She thought she heard someone yell her name from far away and she turned to see multiple Zyons looking at her in fear. Fear that she was injured no less.

To her surprise, the multiple Zyons made a break for her, somehow managing to evade and dodge all the blaster bolts coming from the Exchange thugs.

“Are you okay?” Zyon asked as he propped her up against the wall of the closet, safe from enemy fire.

Ahsoka laughed. He really was a walking set of contradictions! Before this mission, he had stared at her with hatred in his eyes because of her past history as a Jedi, but now he had risked life and limb to see if she was okay after being hit by the shockwave of a frag grenade.

Not much that would do though, as the Exchange thugs had reached them and multiple were in the doorway, blasters leveled at them. One of them spoke into a comlink, asking for orders now that they had apprehended the Jedi and bounty hunter that had attacked Tseqat Du.

Despite the ringing in her montrals and the pounding in her head, Ahsoka was able to hear the angry clacking of the quarren Exchange boss’ beak. He said: /Kill the bounty hunter! The Jedi is mine!/

* * *

Zyon had heard the quarren’s order and he was not surprised. Despite them sparing his life, Zyon expected that the quarren would be out for revenge to salvage his damaged pride.

So now, Zyon was facing down the barrels of quite a few too many blasters for comfort. For anyone else, this would be a no win scenario. If Ahsoka still had her lightsabers, they would have gotten out of here in a flash. But she didn’t, so Zyon would have to think of something… and think of something fast.

There was only one option that came to mind, and it was the one Zyon didn’t like at all. It was the one that would reveal his past life to Ahsoka and necessitate that conversation he didn’t want to have. But nothing else came to him in those few seconds he had to act, so reluctantly he agreed that it was the only course of action left for him.

Zyon raised his hands, backing up slowly. He knew his pack was still on the other side of the hallway where he had left it. In a concealed compartment at the bottom was the only material connection he had to his past life.

Why he held onto it he didn’t know. But at the moment, Zyon was somewhat glad he had.

Twitching a finger, there was a muted _snap-hiss_ and a second later, the bodies of the four Exchange thugs fell to the floor, dead.

The purple bar of death halted right before him though, the hilt caught in Zyon’s hand. He gazed at the purple beam and felt its familiar energy coursing through him.

Zyon swung the lightsaber into a ready position angled behind him and up, and turned at the gasp of surprise he heard behind him.

Slumped against the wall, Ahsoka just stared at him in shock. He knew then that she had figured it out.

Zyon was a Jedi.


	6. Admissions

> _ "The dark is generous. Its first gift is concealment: our true faces lie in the dark beneath our skins, our true hearts remain shadowed deeper still. But the greatest concealment lies not in protecting our secret truths, but in hiding from us the truths of others. The dark protects us from what we dare not know.”  _ Matthew Woodring Stover, Revenge of the Sith

* * *

Ahsoka could do nothing but stare in shock as Zyon stood before her, strong and confident among the decapitated bodies of the Exchange thugs sent to kill them, holding a lightsaber in his hand. And he had drawn it to himself from his pack sitting on the other side of the hallway.

The Force was with him. He could control it. He had a lightsaber. The conclusion Ahsoka drew was shockingly simple…

Zyon Vastor was a Jedi.

At the same time, it made perfect sense and no sense whatsoever. The blast of power she felt in the market square in Taleucema, the path of destruction in Jabba’s Palace, and his dodging off a swarm of blaster bolts mere moments ago. But on the other hand, he had just espoused his hatred for the Jedi and a desire to see them destroyed. What was going on here?!

He didn’t stand there long, dashing out into the hallway. Ahsoka could hear the familiar sound of blaster bolts ricocheting off of a lightsaber and the screams of the Exchange thugs. A few seconds later, there was silence. Well… apart from the distant sounds of the battle that had overtaken the building.

She warily got to her feat, drawing her vibroblade to her hand. If he came after her, she could at least defend herself as she knew it was made with a cortosis weave. At least, she thought it was cortosis weave. 

Zyon was the one who told her that. Had he lied about that as well?

Cautiously, she walked into the hallway. Zyon spun and brought up his lightsaber in a guard position before him. “There’s no time,” he said. “We have to get out of here now before more gangsters arrive.”

Ahsoka stood her ground. “I’m not moving anywhere until you tell me what the kriff is going on here!”

Zyon sighed and looked down. “I’ll tell you everything, but we have to get out of here now. Please, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka grunted in frustration. Finally, she relented, lowering her vibroblade. “Fine,” she said as she Force pulled a blaster to her hand and leveled it at Zyon’s head. “But you make any wrong moves, I’ll cut you down where you stand.”

Zyon nodded and merely turned his back to her, running down the hallway towards the exit.

His continued flippant attitude towards her and danger continued to baffle and anger Ahsoka. It was almost as if he didn’t care what happened to him, as if there was some horrible past that he was trying to escape and that death was preferable to facing it.

Regardless, he was right, they had to escape now or they never would. She rounded the corner to see him cutting a hole through the wall. A couple more Exchange thugs rounded the corner and she acted, sprinting forward with the impossible speed that only the Force could give. Her vibroblade whirled and before the thugs even saw what was coming, they were dead.

Her hands began to tremble and her knees felt weak. In this brief moment of respite, the adrenaline that had filled her thoughts with nothing but the thought of survival she had felt nothing. Now that she could think, it all flooded down on her: the death and destruction all around them that she had helped cause.

She felt a hand grab her shoulder and instinctively moved to stab or slash her assailant with her vibroblade. The person behind her twisted and leaped out of the way, and she spun to come face to face with Zyon, who had an exasperated look on his face.

“Do you always try to kill your allies?”

“Only when they lie to me about who they are.” Was her response.

He started to speak in defense of himself. “Like you-” but cut himself off with a shake of the head. “Whatever. We have a shot to freedom, but we need to go now.” With that, Zyon turned around to return to the hole he had cut in the wall.

Ahsoka shook herself off and regained her composure, walking over to join Zyon, who was staring out at the Corellian Sector around them. She stood next to him and her breath was taken away by the sight before her.

They were on the second story with about a 10 foot jump to the ground. No problem at all for a pair of former Jedi. But was truly spectacular was the swarm of blaster bolts that flew to and from blasters held by fighters who were running forwards, backwards, diving under cover, etc.

“The Corellian Sector’s a warzone.” Zyon said, still looking out at the scene before them. “The Hutt Cartel must’ve finally discovered the Exchange’s location here.”

Explosions and more blaster fire rang out from the other side, another district of the Corellian Sector that they couldn’t see. “I guess their friends got angry at that.” Ahsoka said, pulling her blaster from its holster. “What’s the plan?”

“No clue. You got one?”

_ What would Anakin do? _ Ahsoka thought. He’d probably go charging out there, not guns blazing technically, but lightsaber whirling. However, she didn’t have a lightsaber, but Zyon did. But how good was he with it?

Zyon seemed to pick up on her thoughts. He spoke up: “I’ll cover us to where we left the speeder. Once we reach there, we should be able to make it back to the freighter.”

With that, he ignited his lightsaber and jumped down. Ahsoka followed, firing at any armed person she saw.

The lights on the street were all dim, so the purple beam of Zyon’s lightsaber drew fire like moths to a light. The Cartel and Exchange may have been fighting each other, but a lightsaber meant Jedi, and they both hated Jedi.

Somehow, Zyon managed to deflect all the fire coming at him, twisting and dodging with the grace of an operatic dancer. His lightsaber whirled and twisted so fast that Ahsoka couldn’t see the blade anymore, it was nothing but an oblate sphere of purple fire with what looked to be a human in the middle of it all.

It was stunning, and Ahsoka almost stopped and stared in shock. It was rare for Ahsoka to ever see speed of that level. The only Jedi she had seen move that fast were her master Anakin and Mace Windu, and possibly Master Obi-Wan. A blaster bolt that got a little too close for comfort snapped her back to the now.

They made good time across the street and towards their escape. If Ahsoka was being honest, she was almost glad to be back in a war zone. It was familiar to her: the adrenaline and the danger. She knew a Jedi was not supposed to crave battle and was supposed to keep the peace at all cost, but Ahsoka had matured into a warrior, not a police officer.

Their objective came into view when she suddenly realized that she could no longer hear the buzzing and humming of Zyon’s lightsaber. She whirled to see him leaning against a wall, shrouded in the shadow of night and lit slightly by the burning debris that littered the streets. He was panting and she could see sweat beading on his forehead in the dim, flickering light. The hand clutching his lightsaber was trembling and he was looking at it in… fear?

What was going on?

“Fierfek!” Ahsoka swore, grabbing him and pulling Zyon along as he limped alongside her. “We’re almost out of here! Don’t quit on me now!”

She would have known if he had been hit by a blaster or injured in any way. She would have felt it in the bond that had been formed between them. So why was he acting the way he was?

They made it to the speeder and Ahsoka grabbed the keys from Zyon’s pocket. She didn’t trust him with her life right now. The engine caught on the first attempt and it roared to life as Cartel Security forces rounded the corner and spotted them. By the time they had raised their weapons and fired, Ahsoka and Zyon were gone, rocketing through the streets as blaster fire echoed all around them.

Making it out of the war zone, they ditched the speeder, making the rest of the way to the landing pad on foot… to find multiple thugs,who she assumed were pirates, there waiting for them.

Ahsoka jumped off the speeder, fire in her eyes and anger in her voice. “Who are you and what are you doing with my ship?”

One of the thugs, a weequay with a scar over his right eye, laughed at her. “You’re not the captain, little girl.” He saw Zyon on the speeder, who was still breathing heavily. “Probably that guy’s slave.”

“Does it matter? That’s my ship you’re standing around so I want to know what’s up.”

“Your hands, little girl,” the weequay said pointing a blaster at her. “This here is our dock, and you’ve so unkindly parked your ugly piece of bantha crap here.”

“Yeah, yeah, the tough guy act,” Ahsoka rolled her eyes as she raised her hands. “What do you want?”

“You,” was the simple response. “We originally were going to confiscate the ship, but you look like a more valuable prize.”

“Ugh… seriously?” Ahsoka almost laughed. She wasn’t really surprised though.

By now, Zyon seemed to have gathered his wits and stood behind her. “No deal. She’s not for sale.”

Ahsoka spun with a look of incredulity on her face. She wasn’t anyone’s property!

“A shame,” the weequay said mockingly. “I think we’ll just kill you now and take the girl.”

“Oh I don’t think so.” 

The weequay’s blaster flew from his hand and he stared at his empty palm in shock. “What?” He looked up to see Ahsoka holding his blaster aimed right between his eyes.

“Quick!” The pirate yelled to his comrades. “Shoot them! Shoot them you fools!”

The battle didn’t take long. Ahsoka and Zyon’s force-heightened reflexes allowed them to react much quicker and they took out the armed pirates before they had a chance to get two shots off. Their leader, the weequay, ran off in terror seeing his compatriots dead.

Ahsoka shook her head as Zyon stepped over the corpses to the docking ramp and keyed in the code to unlock it. As soon as it came down, they ran in.

Zyon began to walk towards the cockpit. “Now we must leave, before more pirates arrive.”

Ahsoka tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey Zyon,” she said to get his attention.

“What-” He never got to finish his question.

Zyon stumbled to the ground as Ahsoka’s fist connected with his face. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me who the kriff you are!” She yelled at him, holding her vibroblade at him threateningly while she grabbed his lightsaber.

Zyon sighed as he cradled his cheek. That would probably bruise. Not that Ahsoka really cared at the moment. She needed answers. “I suppose I owe you that much,” he said with a sigh. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Well, it’s pretty clear that you were a Jedi,” Ahsoka said, turning Zyon’s lightsaber over in her hands. “So let’s start there. Who are you?”

Zyon slowly got to his feet and sat down on the couch in the freighter’s lounge. “I didn’t lie when I told you my name. I was born Zyon Vastor on the planet Haruun Kal. Have you ever heard of it?”

Ahsoka thought back to her days in the Order. “Isn’t that Master Windu’s homeworld? And wasn’t Master Billaba sent there in the early days of the war?”

“Your memory is good. Yes, Mace Windu is a native Korunnai, and Depa Billaba… she was sent there shortly after the First Battle of Geonosis.

“From space, Haruun Kal looks like an oceanic world, but appearances can be deceiving. It is an ocean, but not of water. Most of Haruun Kal is covered by a sea of toxic gases brought up by volcanic activity. The only place that life can exist is on Haruun Kal is on the mountains and plateaus that lie above the gases.

“Two types of people live on those mountains and plateaus. The first to live there, my people, are known as the Korunnai. An interesting fact about the Korunnai is that they are all force-sensitive.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened slightly and she made a sound of surprise. “How is that possible?”

“No one knows why,” Zyon shrugged. “But there are theories. The most likely one is that thousands of years ago during the Great Sith War, when the Jedi Knights Exar Kun and Ulic Quel-Droma turned to the dark side and attacked the Republic as Sith Lords, a starship transporting Jedi Knights crashed on Haruun Kal. The theory states that the marooned survivors became our ancestors.

“The other people who live on Haruun Kal are the Balawai. The Balawai are considered outsiders to the Korunnai. We believe they arrived on-world mainly to collect the expensive spices that are abundant on Haruun Kal. It didn’t take long for them to completely control the government, one they funded mainly through the trade of thyssel bark.

“It also didn’t take long for them to start attacking the Korunnai.”

“What do you mean?” Ahsoka asked, standing over him. “There was a civil war on your planet?”

“We called it the Summertime War. I don’t know how it started, but every year brutal war would break out between the Balawai and Korunnai when the snows of winter melted and it would last until the autumn rains came. When that happened, the war would pause until the snows melted again. It lasted for thirty years before Mace Windu came and put an end to it.”

“How did he do that?”

“It started when the Republic learned that the Balawai were being supported by the Separatists. The Jedi Master Depa Billaba was sent to Haruun Kal with her apprentice to support the Korunnai Upland Liberation Front in a guerilla war against the Balawai. In time, she had risen in the ranks of the ULF to be one of the top commanders alongside the  _ lor pelek _ Kar Vastor.”

“Wait,” Ahsoka said. Something Zyon had just said had piqued her interest. “Vastor? Wouldn’t that mean-”

“My brother,” Zyon finished for her.

“If he’s your brother, how do you fit into all of this?”

Zyon sighed, putting his head in his hands. “I was Depa Billaba’s padawan. I was there on Haruun Kal when we… when we fell to the darkness.”

Ahsoka did nothing. She just continued to stand over him warily. Zyon had just admitted to her that he was a fallen Jedi. One part of her mind said she should do something about it, but what? Report him to the Republic or the Jedi? Strike him down? The first was out of her mind almost immediately. She didn’t want anything to do with the Republic or the Jedi since they had betrayed her. The second was unfeasible for her. To strike down a defenseless person who wasn’t threatening her at all? No, not going to happen.

“So what happened?” Was all she said.

“To be honest,” Zyon said pointing at his lightsaber, “I half expected you to ignite that thing and strike me down.”

“That’s not who I am.”

“Indeed,” Zyon said with a nod before he continued. “It was war that caused us to fall. Not just the Clone Wars or the Summertime War, but war itself. Every choice we made meant death for someone. Save these people, but those people must die as a result? No Jedi can survive making such choices for long. Master Billaba won the war on Haruun Kal, but at what cost? Her physical injuries were healed, but she was lost to infinite darkness. Answer me this Ahsoka. How do you think the Clone Wars will end? Who will win?”

Ahsoka thought for a moment, “It’s obvious. The Republic will defeat the Separatists. They have 10 times more loyal planets and countless more resources. And they have the Jedi. It’s inevitable.”

“The Republic very well may win,” Zyon said sadly, “but the Jedi will lose.”

Ahsoka’s face twisted into a look of confusion. “What do you mean? The Jedi will lose but the Republic will win? How is that possible?”

“War is a horror, Ahsoka.” Zyon’s voice was sad, remorseful. “But what the Jedi do not understand is that it must be a horror. Wars are not won by winning the hearts and minds of civilians on the other side. They are not won by protecting the innocent, but by demoralizing your enemy by inflicting such terrible suffering upon them that they can no longer bear to fight. 

“No one is innocent in war, and that is why the Jedi will fail. The innocent citizens among the Separatists are the ones who build the ships, grow the food, mine the raw materials, and purify the water that the Separatists need to fight and survive. Without them, the Confederacy will fall quickly.”

“But the Jedi stand for justice,” Ahsoka said. “They would never stand by while ordinary people are hurt and killed!”

“Was what they did to you justice?”

Ahsoka was silent, all the memories of her being betrayed by the council flooded into her mind immediately. She couldn’t speak, only shake her head silently.

“That is war, Ahsoka. That was what war did to the council. You’ve been shattered and demoralized. You don’t want anything more to do with the war, do you?”

Again, she shook her head.

“And that is what war has done to the Jedi. But it is the only way to win. The only way the Jedi Order can win the Clone Wars is to no longer be Jedi. They can save the Republic, but the cost is their principles. The Jedi have sacrificed everything for the Republic: their families, their homeworlds, their wealth, and, for some of them, even their lives. Now the Republic is calling on them to sacrifice their consciences as well. Can the Jedi refuse? Are Jedi traditions worth more than the lives of billions?”

“Are you saying the Jedi shouldn’t fight?” Ahsoka asked.

“They’re fighting the wrong war, Ahsoka,” Zyon answered. “You see the true war, the Jedi’s war, is not one waged by droids or warships or soldiers. The true war is waged in the hearts of all living things, against our own natures, light or dark.”

“So you’re talking Jedi vs. Sith? The light side vs the dark side?”

Zyon shook his head. “Not entirely. I spoke to Master Windu after the whole incident took place. He told me that the Separatists are not the true enemies of the Jedi. They’re the enemies of the Republic, and the Clone Wars will decide if the Republic will stand or fall. The Jedi’s enemy is not the reborn Sith, like Count Dooku, Darth Maul, or Ventress. He told me that the true enemy of the Jedi is the jungle and the darkness itself.”

“Interesting,” Ahsoka said as she nodded her head. It made sense. Dooku was once a Jedi. As were countless Sith in the millenia before them. Ahsoka was no historian, but she knew of Jedi that had turned to the dark side and waged war: Exar Kun and Ulic Quel-Droma, Revan and Malak, Master Qui-Gon’s former apprentice Xanatos, the Jedi who split from the Order during the Hundred Year Darkness, etc. It was a wonder the Republic still trusted the Jedi at all. “So what did you do on Haruun Kal? How did you end up here?”

Zyon told her everything about Haruun Kal and how he and his master Depa Billaba had fallen so far. Being the apprentice of Mace Windu, Depa had mastered the lightsaber form of Vaapad and taught it to Zyon. But Vaapad did not help them on Haruun Kal. “Vaapad is more than a lightsaber form, Ahsoka,” Zyon explained. “It is a state of mind. It requires the user to enjoy the fight, leading through the penumbra of the dark side. Vaapad accepts the fury of an opponent, transforming the wielder into one half of a superconducting loop, with the other half being the power of darkness inherent in the opponent. However, Vaapad’s focus on physical combat leads the user perilously close to the dark side. Vaapad requires a constant and sizable stream of Force use from the user, and we were surrounded by the darkness of the jungle on Haruun Kal.”

He went on to explain how he and Master Billaba had driven the Separatists offworld. It was shockingly simple: Master Billaba had shown the civilians in Haruun Kal’s capital, Pelek Baw, that the Separatists and Balawai militia were unable to protect them. There was no grand, pitched battle between the guerrillas and droids. Just a string of brutal ambushes against civilian targets. These strikes were not aimed at the Separatist emplacements or even the lives of the Balawai militia, but at their will to fight. “And that’s why Master Billaba brought Mace Windu to Haruun Kal. She wanted to show him what winning soldiers would look like. She believed she had found the Jedi of the future… in Kar Vastor.”

“What was so special about Kar?” Ahsoka asked.

“Family is somewhat different on Haruun Kal than in the rest of the galaxy. Kar may be my blood brother, but we were also the dôshalo, or clan brother, of Master Windu. The three of us were the last remaining members of Ghôsh Windu. I hadn’t seen Kar since I was a toddler, when the Jedi brought me to the temple, and Mace left for the Jedi years before Kar and I were born. All the other members of our ghôsh had been killed in the Summertime War, leaving Kar the last one alive on Haruun Kal. How he survived is unknown. There’s no consensus among the Korunnai and Kar refused to talk about it. All I know is that at the age of 14, he was alone in the jungle without weapons, food, water, or a grasser and still survived for over a standard year.

“He eventually became an extremely powerful  _ lor pelek, _ basically a warlord, through his command of  _ pelokotan _ , which is what the Korunnai call the Force. He had such power--and control--in the Force that he was able to beat Mace nearly to death, and without a day of training. But what he did was natural. As natural as the jungle itself. The Jedi train their entire lives to control their natural emotions and natural desires. They give up so much power. Kar acted naturally, and she saw him as what the Jedi Order needed.”

“But he committed war crimes! You all did,” was Ahsoka’s response. “The Jedi would never allow evil like that.”

Zyon shrugged. “Kar Vastor wasn’t evil. Yes, he radiated darkness--but so do all the Korunnai and the Balawai. His was the darkness of the Jungle, not the darkness of the Sith. Kar did not fight for power, to cause pain or to dominate all he surveyed. He simply lived. Fiercely. Naturally. Stripped of all restraints of civilization.”

“Fair enough,” Ahsoka said, “but how did you end up here?”

“Mace led the Korunnai and a contingent of Republic clone troopers in an attack on Pelek Baw, and was successful in getting the Balawai militia to surrender. But we… Kar, Master Billaba, and I betrayed him. We burned the city and began slaughtering Balawai civilians. And before you condemn what we did, you must understand that had the tables been turned--if the Balawai had gotten into our home--they would have done the same.

“Mace returned to our stronghold with the Balawai militia, now under his command, and counterattacked with the remainder of his clone troops. Mace and Depa dueled each other while Kar, his akk guards, and I fought the clones and Mace’s ‘second-in-command’, I guess you could call him that. During his time on Haruun Kal, he had recruited a young Korun by the name of Nick Rostu into the Grand Army of the Republic.

“Depa had wounded Mace twice, one of them a stab through the gut, when Mace decided to fight no more. How he reached through to Depa, I do not know. But he did, and Depa seemed to have realized what she was doing and attempted to commit suicide. I remember feeling something wrong, and I saw her put her lightsaber to her head. It was shot out of her hand at the last second by Nick, and she fell into a coma.

“Mace gave Kar a chance to surrender, but he refused and attacked. Mace disabled him with one of the vibroshields wielded by a dead akk guard. At that point, it was just me and Mace standing. Nick was badly injured and crumpled against a wall, Depa was in a coma, and Kar was unconscious.

“Mace gave me a chance to surrender as well, but I was lost. Lost in the jungle of darkness that clouded my head. Weakened, confused, without my Master, I did what the jungle would have done.”

Zyon was silent, looking at the floor. Ahsoka could easily guess what had happened. Zyon had attacked, and since Mace was still alive, Zyon must have lost.

“Mace put all of us under arrest and brought Depa and I back to Coruscant. I don’t know what happened to Kar, but he’s in custody somewhere. Last I heard, Depa was still in a coma in a bacta tank. The Jedi Council thought I could return to the light. They assigned me to go on meditative retreat with the AgriCorps. They thought that if I did service to other people with no benefit to myself, I might remember what it was like to be a Jedi.

“But I couldn’t take it. I snuck out and left, stealing my lightsaber on my way out. It was going to be given back to me when I had finished my meditation, but I never reached that state. I drifted around the galaxy for a year or so before I fell in with some pirates. After some time with them, I left and struck out on my own with my own ship. This ship.

“And then a togruta ex-Jedi fell out of the sky during a run on Nar Shaddaa.”

Ahsoka sat down across from him, analyzing what he had said. Through their bond in the Force, Ahsoka could feel the waves of guilt and remorse rolling off of him.

“So you fell? There’s no shame in that. Why hide from the gift your people were given?”

“Don’t you see, Ahsoka?” Zyon cried out. “I don’t want the Force! I don’t want to use it! The darkness… the jungle… it’s still calling to me. I almost lost myself again back there. I can’t go back to what I was!”

Suddenly, Zyon’s condition in the alleyway made sense to her. Vaapad channeled darkness into the user and fountained it back out as a weapon of the light. But if the user lost control, Vaapad would control them and they would be lost to infinite darkness, like Depa Billaba was. Zyon had started to enjoy the fight, and he had started to let Vaapad master him. Ahsoka could feel the darkness through their bond. It was a wild thing, pushing in on the mental walls Zyon had thrown up in desperation. He was losing, his will was crumbling, his sorrow and guilt multiplying the strength of the darkness.

Ahsoka got up and ran to his side, sitting next to him. She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace and she spoke through their bond.  _ Let me in. _

She could feel Zyon’s fear as he responded:  _ If I do, it’ll overwhelm me. _

Ahsoka spoke only two words through the bond between them:  _ Trust me. _

In an instant, the shields Zyon had put up around his mind came crashing down and the darkness flooded in like a tidal wave. But so did Ahsoka. She joined her will to his and threw up a new barrier, stopping the darkness in its tracks.

The darkness pounded on the barriers, threatening to burst through and inundate the both of them, but Ahsoka stood firm. She could feel the darkness: the death, destruction, and misery that Zyon had caused and bore witness to on Haruun Kal. But she could also feel Zyon’s will strengthening.

Bolstered by Ahsoka’s resilience, Zyon’s confidence had return and his will strengthened in an instant. Together, they pushed. The darkness, the jungle, resisted for a moment until they blasted it back away from Zyon’s mind.

It was then that he realized that as long as Ahsoka was with him, he didn’t need to fear the jungle. It was his isolation that had caused this problem to get this bad. The Dark Side was singular. It’s power was stronger when he was alone. But the Light was collective. One Jedi was strong, but combined, Jedi were almost unbeatable. And while they weren’t Jedi, as long as he and Ahsoka were together, the dark side would never touch them.

Ahsoka and Zyon came back to the couch in the lounge of Zyon’s freighter. They were still locked in an embrace, and they awkwardly broke it.

Zyon looked into Ahsoka’s eyes, unbelieving. “Why? Why’d you help me?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. You were beating yourself up over it and letting yourself fall and I could ease your pain and suffering.”

“But you’re not a Jedi.”

Ahsoka shrugged again. “Just because I’m not a Jedi doesn’t mean I can’t still help people. And everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Point taken,” Zyon said with a nod. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ahsoka said with a smile. “Now, shall we get on with the Lightspring? You said you had a friend who might know something about it.”

“Yes,” Zyon said, smiling, “let’s do that.”

Ahsoka stood up and began to walk to her bunk. She needed a good night’s sleep after everything that had happened here. She lay down and closed her eyes as she felt the engines fire up. Shortly afterwards, she could feel the ship lurch as it entered hyperspace.

* * *

“Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka turned her head and saw Zyon standing in the doorway, a concerned look on his face.

“Yes?” She responded, sitting up and turning so she faced him.

“I was wondering,” he paused, bouncing from foot to foot, clearly nervous about something.

“What is it?” When Zyon didn’t respond, Ahsoka said, “You don’t need to worry about anything, Zyon. Tell me.”

“Can you train me in the ways of the Force again?”

“What?” That was not what Ahsoka had been expecting.

“I need help Ahsoka, your help. I can’t keep the darkness away from me on my own.”

“But why do you want me to train you, Zyon? I left the Order when I was a padawan.”

“So was I,” was Zyon’s response. “And the Force has some kind of bond between us. You know what I’m struggling against more than anyone, and I need your help.”

Ahsoka sighed, putting her head in her hands. If she trained Zyon again, and he fell to his demons, what would she do? But then again, if she refused his request, he would most likely fall. He had been touched by the darkness again and it would always call to him from now on. Soon, he would be devoured by it.

“Very well, Zyon,” she said as she stood up. “I will train you.”

Zyon rushed forwards and enveloped her in a hug. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

Ahsoka broke the embrace again and smiled. “For now, let’s meditate.”

They both knelt down on the floor of Ahsoka’s room. Ahsoka spoke first: “Close your eyes.

“Feel the Force around you, feel its currents, its eddies. Listen to the echo of your thoughts, your heart - separated from war, separated from hate. Think of what you felt when you felt the need to help me, to protect me.”

They continued on meditating for the rest of the journey to Florrum.


	7. The Pirate

> " _Information is a commodity. It can be traded, sold, and purchased. And in the end, credits are only as valuable as the secrets they can buy."_ Darth Bane

* * *

The alarm blaring in the cockpit brought Ahsoka and Zyon out of meditation. They were nearing their destination and would be dropping out of hyperspace in a few minutes.

Entering the cockpit, Zyon sat down behind the controls and began preparations to land. Ahsoka walked in after him and sat down in the copilot's seat, helping Zyon when he asked. Outside the cockpit windows, the incoherent mess that was hyperspace slowed and starlines shortened into the normal pinpricks of light as the freighter reverted from hyperspace to realspace.

Before them was a dry, arid planet: Florrum.

"So," Ahsoka asked, "who is your friend?"

"Not really much of a 'friend'," Zyon responded with a chuckle. "After I escaped the AgriCorps, I ended up on Coruscant in the Old Galactic Market doing stuff here and there for vendors and other locals. Then gangsters came after me, so I stowed away on a ship that was actually run by my friend's pirate crew. When they found me, I hid who I was and fell in with him and his crew for about a year. Then I broke off on my own in this ship."

Ahsoka sighed in annoyance. "Please tell me you didn't steal this ship from him."

"Of course not!" Ahsoka raised a skeptical eye marking and Zyon sighed. "Maybe… kinda… yes?" Zyon's response, made Ahsoka groan.

"Wonderful," Ahsoka snarked. "I wonder what he'll do when he sees you."

"Probably commend me for doing it," Zyon said with a smirk. "He's self-centered, treacherous, avaricious, and cares only about getting the best deal for himself. The idea of hidden treasure will appeal to him enough to smooth over any hostility he may feel. You'll like him."

"Oh for sure," Ahsoka quipped. She gestured to the planet before them. "So he's based on this dust-ball planet."

"Yep," Zyon said as he honed in on a signal that they had picked up and they saw another ship on the scanners. They maneuvered to enable docking and Zyon got up to head to the airlock, Ahsoka following behind him. As they walked over to the airlock, Zyon explained: "He's been here on Florrum for a while. Last I heard, he's fallen on hard times. It'll make him even more receptive to our offer."

Air hissed as the airlock was pressurized while Ahsoka put two and two together. "Wait, Florrum? Please tell me your friend isn't…"

She never got to finish. The airlock door opened and a boisterous voice greeted them. "My friends, my friends! Haha! It is I, Hondo!"

"Oh for the love of-"

Hondo Ohnaka stepped out of the airlock into the corridor of Zyon's ship, his typical grin on his face. He stopped short when he saw Ahsoka standing next to Zyon and his face lit up with joy.

"Impressive, Zyon, my boy. You did what I never could. You made Ahsoka Tano your servant!"

Ahsoka dropped her head into her hands with a growl of frustration while Zyon just stared in surprise. "You two know each other?"

"Know each other? Oh we are old friends!" Hondo laughed with glee, slinging an arm around Ahsoka's shoulders as if they were old comrades.

"Yeah," Ahsoka said, shrugging Hondo off, "cause old friends always try to sell the other into slavery."

"What?"

"Oh come now, Ahsoka. Everything worked out in the end. Don't you remember when I helped you on Onderon?"

"Hey what did you try to do to her?"

"Oh nothing of much importance-"

"He raided a Jedi ship carrying younglings, captured me, tried to sell me into slavery, but I was freed by the younglings and was then chased and recaptured by Hondo's men while he got attacked and imprisoned by General Grievous, so his men, the younglings, and I teamed up to free him and escape Grievous and his droid army."

Zyon stared at her in shock. "Wow. That must have been… entertaining."

Hondo laughed again. "Oh it was. I wish you had been there, Zyon. You know, you were on track to be my best pirate, besides myself of course."

"You going to shoot him for stealing your ship?" Ahsoka asked with a smirk.

"Ho ho! There's the Ahsoka I remember," Hondo said, patting both Ahsoka and Zyon on the back. "You would not believe my reaction when I found out what he did. I was so furious… and proud. I couldn't believe that you had finally taken my teachings to heart!"

"Uh… thanks?"

"Come. Come," Hondo said. "Let's get down to my fortress and have a drink."

* * *

Ahsoka had to hand it to Hondo. Even though Grievous had destroyed this place and, from what she had heard from Master Obi-Wan, Darth Maul and his brother had caused even more damage, Hondo had the bar up and running. It wasn't much of a fortress, but it was good enough for a Weequay pirate.

"Now, I wouldn't guess that you came here just to see old Hondo. What can I do for you?"

Hondo slid them a couple of drinks. Zyon smirked at Hondo as he grabbed his mug. "I'm assuming you know about the Hutt and Exchange bounties on our heads? You or your men wouldn't possibly have done anything to these drinks, would they?"

"Oh, Zyon," Hondo said, putting a hand on his chest in a gesture of wounded pride. "Do you really think that lowly of me? Just for that, I will bring out the special stash."

The bartender droid pulled out a full, unopened bottle from under the counter and slid it to Zyon, while Ahsoka just chuckled and shook her head with a smile.

Zyon cracked open the bottle and poured himself and Ahsoka a drink before turning back to Hondo. "We've got large bounties on our heads. Pissed off a hutt then broke into an Exchange boss' home and knocked him out."

"Now why would you do that Zyon? I may be a pirate, but to do that is suicide." Hondo remarked, taking a swig from his own drink. "And why would you ever come here? It can't be for shelter with those bounties on your heads."

Ahsoka responded this time. "We're on a mission. We need information that you have."

"This can't be a Jedi mission, Ahsoka," Hondo sighed. "I heard about what they did to you. That was… not honorable. I'm impressed that you had the strength to walk away. Say," he grinned, "what would you say to joining up? We would have great use for an ex-Jedi on the crew."

"Thanks Hondo, but I'll have to decline."

"Ah well," Hondo shrugged, "worth a try. My father taught me to never waste a potential resource.

"So what is this mission you two are on?"

Zyon smiled as he responded with a question of his own. "Ever heard of Davik Kang?"

* * *

Hondo reclined as Ahsoka and Zyon finished telling him their plan. He whistled as he did. "So, you are after the fabled treasure of Davik Kang?" He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "You're chasing a ghost, Zyon. Hundreds of people have searched for it, and no one has found it. Most of them ended up dead."

"You know me, Hondo," Zyon said in a cocky tone. "I'm not 'most people'."

"I don't doubt that Zyon." Hondo responded. "But Taris has still not recovered from its destruction thousands of years ago. Yes, cities dot its surface, but those are only in a few locations. The site of Davik Kang's estate still lies in toxic ruins. Rakghouls still infest the area and attack anyone who comes close."

"But someone found it," Ahsoka countered, "millennia ago. Clartra Sanfol found it and drew up a map to its location. We've been following the trail of Stuska Braldeq, some treasure hunter who supposedly found Sanfol's map."

"I know very well about Sanfol and Braldeq, Ahsoka. And I know the cost of chasing ghosts. I was there when he disappeared."

"What?"

"Stuska Braldeq was my mentor, many years ago," Hondo claimed. "He taught me most of what I know, and he became obsessed with the idea of Davik Kang's riches. It consumed him."

"So you're not going to help us?" Zyon asked.

"I can't," Hondo said sadly. "Look around us. This is all that's left of my kingdom and it threatens to fall apart more each and every day."

"Which is why you need us."

Hondo turned to look at Ahsoka with an intrigued look on his face. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it, what do you need to rebuild your power base? Money. Credits, jewelry, artifacts, you name it. And we have a way that you can get that. You help us find Kang's treasure, you get a cut of anything we find."

"You make good points Ahsoka. I know my men, once I leave they will turn on me and try to grab power for themselves. But if we do succeed and get the treasure, then I can rebuild. I know my men, and they will follow whoever can make them rich."

Hondo stood up. "Very well. You convinced me, Ahsoka. It's better to die living than live and watch everything you built crumble before your eyes. We shall leave for Tatooine immediately!" He grabbed a bottle from the bartending droid. "Well, after one more drink."

* * *

Some time later, the three boarded Zyon's freighter and departed for Tatooine. Hondo had left his most trusted subordinate in charge, and Zyon asked whether the man would remain loyal to Hondo.

The answer was, "Of course not, he is probably inciting rebellion against me right now. It's what I would have done."

Hondo spent the rest of the trip regaling Ahsoka and Zyon with various stories from his past. They were either embellished or the weequay pirate had led a very interesting life. Ahsoka guessed that both were true. Hondo also told them about his adventures with the Jedi.

Ahsoka had heard about how Hondo had captured not only Obi-Wan and Anakin, but Count Dooku as well. It was fun to hear it from Hondo's perspective, even if she admitted that it was Hondo had a tendency for over-exaggeration. She also laughed out loud at Zyon's face when Hondo told the story about how he captured Ahsoka.

The stories went on long into the night, or what would have been night on Coruscant if they were using standard time, and they all broke the conversation off to get some sleep.

A couple hours later, Ahsoka woke up. Immediately, she could sense the cause: Zyon. He wasn't getting any sleep and was bothered by something.

Ahsoka got up and walked into the freighter's common room where Hondo was snoring on the couch. Quietly, she got a couple cups of caf and walked to the only other place that Zyon would be: the cockpit.

Zyon was just sitting there, alone, looking out at the nebulous realm of hyperspace. "Couldn't sleep?" Ahsoka asked quietly.

"Seeing Hondo again brought back… memories," was Zyon's response.

Ahsoka sighed as she sat down on the floor behind the copilot chair. "Meditate with me."

Zyon nodded and got up to sit across from Ahsoka. Through their bond, she could feel his trepidation and wariness. "Hondo doesn't know who you used to be, does he?"

Zyon was silent for a moment before he spoke softly. "He doesn't."

Ahsoka smiled softly. "I can guess why. You thought they'd kill you if they found out?"

"I did," Zyon admitted. "I'm still wary about what he'll do when he learns the truth."

"Come on, Zyon," Ahsoka chuckled, "this is _Hondo_ we're talking about. He somehow got it into his head that he and Master Obi-Wan are the best of friends."

Zyon cracked a smile. "I guess you're right."

They continued to meditate, feeling the Force ebb and flow around them. Zyon's emotional state still meant the Force around him was turbulent. He held a double edged sword. The turbulence in the Force granted him great power, but also great danger. If he was not strong enough to resist it, he would be consumed by it.

Meanwhile, the Force around Ahsoka flowed calmly and peacefully. Despite all that had happened to her in the past couple months, she was at peace. She had found a new place in the galaxy, living for herself.

She felt herself instinctively reaching out, trying to find familiar people. In fact, without thinking, her instincts led her right to: ' _Anakin?'_

_'Ahsoka? Is that you?'_

* * *

The past few months had not been easy on Anakin Skywalker. First Ahsoka had left both the Order and him, then one of his clone troopers had killed a Jedi during a battle. To make matters even worse, Fives was now dead, spouting some theory about how the clones were made to destroy the Jedi and that Anakin's old friend and mentor, Chancellor Palpatine, was at the center of it all.

Anakin was never one to enjoy meditating. But he figured he might take Obi-Wan's advice and meditate to clear his head. What he found was… unsettling.

Darkness was clouding the Force around the Jedi Temple. And it was clouding the galaxy as well. War, the Clone Wars, was churning out more and more death by the minute. This wasn't what the galaxy was supposed to be like. This was what the Jedi were supposed to prevent.

Anakin had begun to feel more and more isolated because of the Clone Wars. Ahsoka was gone, Padme was busier and busier in the Senate and had less time to spend with him on the few occasions he was on Coruscant. He couldn't talk much to Obi-Wan either. Obi-Wan was the posterboy of what a Jedi should be, while Anakin was not. All he would hear was something about the will of the Force, letting go, and moving on.

Anakin sorely wished that Ahsoka was still by his side. He still remembered the feeling as she closed his hand around her Padawan braid and still remembered the sight of her walking away down the Temple steps.

If only he could talk to her again, he could-

_'Anakin?'_

Anakin stopped in surprise. Was that? Could it be?

_'Ahsoka? Is that you?'_

He could feel Ahsoka through the Force. Ahsoka and someone else in the Force. She was with someone strong and powerful in the Force. But if she was with a Jedi, he would have heard about it by now.

Immediately, Anakin's mind flashed with alarm. Who was it? Ventress? Dooku? Dooku's master? The thought of Ahsoka possibly falling to the dark side wrenched Anakin's heart. He would have then failed her completely.

He tried to sense her location, but it was soon apparent that he wouldn't be able to. She was far away from him. _'_ _Ahsoka, where are you? Are you okay?'_

There was no answer for a moment, just an overwhelming sense of sadness from his old padawan. Then he felt her break the connection.

And Anakin Skywalker was alone, again.

* * *

Zyon felt Ahsoka snap out of meditation abruptly and he brought himself back to the cockpit. Ahsoka was panting, sweat beading on her forehead. "Ahsoka?" Zyon immediately moved to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Through their bond, Zyon could feel great sadness and longing from Ahsoka. His best guess: she had made contact with someone from her past. Someone from her past that she missed greatly.

He just knelt beside her in silence until Ahsoka said quietly: "It was Anakin."

"Your master?"

Ahsoka nodded, rocking back on her feet until she sat down against the copilot seat. "I just… I can't face him, talk to him or… I just can't. Not yet."

"Take your time," Zyon said. "He'll understand. If you two were like the holonet said about you, he'll give you all the time you need."

"Thank you," Ahsoka said, pulling Zyon into a hug. "I mean it."

Zyon smiled, returning the embrace. "Get some sleep. Force knows you need some."

Her laughter was all he needed to hear.

* * *

Several hours later, the freighter dropped out of hyperspace over Tatooine. Zyon brought the freighter in to land in Mos Eisley this time, avoiding Anchorhead. Jabba was probably still looking for them.

Hondo was the first to walk down the boarding ramp into Docking Bay 94. "I smell profit!" He yelled.

"Hondo," came Zyon's growl of frustration, "we're trying to avoid attention, not bring it crashing onto us the moment we land."

"I told you we should have left him in the ship," Ahsoka said with a chuckle.

"Relax, Zyon," Hondo said with a laugh. "This will be like old times. A good old fashioned treasure hunt!"

The three left the docking bay and made their way to the cantina, Ahsoka and Zyon keeping their eyes and senses on the lookout for anyone who might recognize them. The inside of the cantina was incredibly dingy with smoke hanging in the air. A bith band was playing music on a stage of some sorts around which a crowd aliens of countless species gathered.

Hondo immediately went up to the bartender and struck up a conversation. Zyon and Ahsoka each got a drink and stood in a corner, keeping an eye on the scum and villainy that mingled around them.

Zyon tensed slightly. Ahsoka felt it and asked: "What is it?"

"Far end of the bar," Zyon subtly nodded in the direction, as pointing only made you a target. Ahsoka slowly turned and looked to see a blueish-green Rodian in a bright jacket sitting, enjoying a drink. On his hip was a small, compact blaster. Zyon continued. "That's Greedo. One of Jabba's best bounty hunters."

"We should steer clear of him," Ahsoka agreed. "Get Hondo, see what he's found out."

"Right," Zyon nodded, leaving the obscurity of the corner to rendezvous with Hondo under the guise of getting a drink.

Hondo was chatting eagerly with the bartender, who appeared to know the Weequay pirate. Zyon listened in on it.

"I have to say, Hondo, I'm surprised to see you here on Tatooine. I haven't seen you since you and Captain Braldeq came here."

"Yeah. This planet brings back… bad memories. But, I've got a good lead now. I need someone with a speeder. Someone you can trust for us to go out to the Dune Sea and back safely."

"I know just the guy. Here's his address. I'll tell him you're coming."

The bartender ambled off and Hondo turned to Zyon. "Looks like you've got it in hand?" Zyon asked.

"So far, Zyon. So far," was Hondo's response. "Where's Ahsoka?"

"Standing watch over in the corner. She can take care of herself."

Hondo laughed. "Oh I know she can. She escaped me before. But you didn't want to draw attention, and a young woman by herself in an establishment like this, surrounded by scoundrels, pirates, and the like? That's just asking for attention."

A few moments later, Hondo was proven correct as a commotion started over by where Zyon had left Ahsoka.

* * *

Not for the first time, Ahsoka wished that the galaxy would just let her be alone for once. But of course, being a young, pretty female togruta by herself in a cantina in Mos Eisley meant that someone would come after her before long.

As to be expected, a couple of alien spacers sauntered over to her with the usual line of "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?"

The conversation played out as she expected, with the spacers refusing to leave her alone and trying to get her to leave with them.

The spacers finally got to the part where they grew frustrated with her rejections and one of them grabbed her shoulder. Before the space could even comprehend what had happened next, Ahsoka pivoted and drove her fist deep into the spacer's gut.

The alien cried out in pain and fell to the floor, doubled over and clutching her stomach. The other spacer called over to a few buddies at a nearby table and they came running over. One pulled out a knife, thinking that she would back down at the sight of the weapon.

Ahsoka's response was to pull out her vibroblade and the spacers stopped in their tracks. "Show me yours, tough guy," Ahsoka said with a smirk as she admired the vibroblade. "I bet mine's bigger."

It was at that point that Zyon returned from talking with Hondo. He placed a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder and spoke to the now wary crew of spacers as he pointed at their wounded friend. "Pick him up."

They did.

"I believe the lady wants to be left alone. I suggest you respect her wishes."

Ahsoka embellished Zyon's statement by baring her sharp canine teeth and snarling predatorily. The spacers backed off quickly.

Zyon threw a few credit chits to the bartender. "Sorry for the mess."

"You think your bounty hunter saw?" Ahsoka whispered to Zyon as they left.

Zyon responded with a nod. "Most likely. This'll get a little more complicated soon."

They left the cantina and stepped into the bright glare of Tatooine's twin suns. Hondo led the way, weaving his way through the sandy streets with ease. After a few minutes, they stood outside of a speeder sales shop.

Shortly afterwards, Zyon was piloting a beat-up, but reliable landspeeder out of the garage and into the streets of Mos Eisley. Zyon suddenly perked up and turned his head to look at a Kubaz standing on the side of the street. The Kubaz noticed Zyon's gaze and quickly scurried away.

"We're being tailed."

"You sure?" Ahsoka asked.

"He's sure," was Hondo's response. "When Zyon gets a bad feeling, you know something is going to happen."

A minute later, a speeder pulled out into the street behind them. Normally, they would have just passed it off as a random, innocuous speeder owned by some random civilian who needed to get somewhere, but all three of them were on edge and on the lookout for any trouble.

"You think we're being followed?" Ahsoka said, warily keeping an eye on the speeder behind them.

"One way to find out," was Zyon's response. He turned off the main road onto a sidestreet and stopped the speeder. The speeder that was behind them continued straight without turning.

Zyon relaxed his grip on the steering console slightly and eased them forward on the sidestreet. Behind them, a different speeder turned onto the sidestreet behind them. Ahsoka turned and kept her eyes on that, but swung her head around as their speeder came to a halt and Zyon cursed.

The speeder that was tailing them had swung around the city block and was now in front of them, cutting them off. Ahsoka whirled to see the speeder behind them do the same.

"Kriff," she said to herself. They were boxed in.


	8. Author's Note: Going on Hiatus

Hey everyone, SWGoji2001 here.

I regret to inform you guys that I have to go on an even longer hiatus for a while. One of my college friends is suicidal and the rest of us... decided to tell the authorities about it. I believe we did the right thing, but I don't know if she'll trust us ever again. As long as my friend is alive, I can deal with the guilt of betraying her trust.

As you can imagine, I'm in no mood to write right now. I don't know how long I'll be afk, and I will return eventually, but just... not right now. I need some time.

Regretfully yours,

SWGoji2001


	9. The Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka, Hondo, and Zyon continue to hunt for the map to Davik Kang's treasure, but to do so they must fight through gangsters, Tuskens, and their own struggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm back with a new chapter. I'm so sorry it's taken me months to update this story. An idea sprung into my head for another story and I got tunnel vision on that one. By the time I decided to come back to this one, there was the whole incident with my friend. The good news is that they're doing okay. I want to say thank you to everyone who helped me during that difficult time with your kind words of support. You guys are the reason I love writing these stories.
> 
> But then the coronavirus pandemic threw my life into chaos. With classes transferring to online, flight labs being suspended, and me having to drive 12 hours to get back home and transition into a whole new schedule, I kind of neglected writing this story. Again, I am so sorry, and I'll try to update sooner next time.
> 
> Enough of that though. On to the good stuff!

> “Things that seem permanent, a given, have a way of changing quickly, to something you don’t recognize. And not all change is for the better.”  Ben Kenobi

**-0-**

Zyon reached for his blaster as the speeder before them positioned itself to block the road more effectively, but he felt a leathery hand on his shoulder. Hondo shook his head and gave a slight smile. “Patience, Zyon. Let me speak with these men.”

“Careful, Hondo,” Ahsoka said from behind them. “You sure about this?”

“I am,” Hondo said. “Everyone has a price.” Hondo raised his voice a bit, making sure the men barring their way could hear the last bit: “These men seem reasonable, so we’ll reason with them.”

“It’s your funeral, Hondo. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Ahsoka sighed, no smirk on her face like usual.

As Hondo climbed out, he seemed to stumble a bit, bringing himself close enough to whisper into Zyon’s ear. “When I give the signal, be ready to hit the gas.”

Zyon nodded as Hondo climbed out into the street and walked towards the speeder with his hands up. “Excuse me, my friends! You seem to be blocking the road. Would you mind kindly moving your speeder so we could pass.”

The apparent leader of the thugs in the speeder, a male twi’lek with reddish skin, laughed. “So, the great Hondo Ohnaka graces us with his presence on this remote dustball? Well, pirate… what business do you have here?”

“Oh, I am recruiting, my friend!” Hondo said, flinging his arms wide. “After Count Dooku’s cowardly attack on my fortress and the incident with two laser-sword swinging maniacs that my brave and strong band drove off, I am in need of supplies and recruits. A friend told me there were good pickings here on Tatooine.”

“Is that so?” the twi’lek said in a mocking tone, raising an eyebrow in disbelief as he stood up and walked towards Hondo.

“What reason would I have to lie?” Hondo said, that big smile still plastered on his face. “Say, you would make a good recruit! What would it take for you to join my merry band?”

The twi’lek pointed at Zyon and Ahsoka in the speeder. “Are they in your merry band of pirates?”

“Of course,” Zyon said, mock hurt in his voice. “You think I would travel with random thugs? The boy is one of my new proteges and the girl… the girl has her uses.”

“Oh,” the twi’lek crossed his arms, “and what might those be?”

“No no, those are classified to everyone not in my crew. Join up and I will tell you all of them!”

The twi’lek made a show of thinking by scratching his chin. He looked up at Hondo. “I’d love to, but there’s just one problem Ohnaka. Those two share a striking resemblance to two fools who disobeyed the will of Jabba the Hutt. The male’s a smuggler who foolishly tried to steal some spice from Jabba, so the female was taken as compensation. However, the fool broke her out and blew up some of Jabba’s property on the way to a freighter that they then stole.

“Here’s the deal, Ohnaka. The bounties on those two are large enough for you to fund a small army, and Most Exalted Jabba will be most generous to whoever brings them to him. Give us the boy and girl, and Jabba will outfit you with whatever mercenaries, weapons, and credits you need.”

Zyon’s grip on his blaster tightened. He knew it was a bad idea to have come to Tatooine! Ahsoka tensed in the backseat and she leaned over the seat to ask him something quietly. “Isn’t that Jabba’s majordomo Bib Fortuna?”

Zyon nodded. “He’s the guy who threatened you with living like a slut if you didn’t join their organization, right?”

Ahsoka trembled. “Yes. I can’t let them take me. I’d rather die than live in that hellhole.”

“They won’t,” he meant what he said and Ahsoka could feel that through their bond. He could feel her gratitude as well. He felt stronger because of it. He now had someone to fight for other than himself. He turned to Ahsoka and spoke quietly. “On my mark, knock the guys behind us off their feet.”

In front of the speeder, Hondo shrugged and gave his answer. “Well, you know what they say. A deal’s a deal!”

Hondo put his hand before him as if they were going to shake on it, but Zyon knew Hondo’s game. Hondo never shook hands. He recognized the signal immediately and hit the accelerator on their speeder right as the speeder before them exploded.

“Ahsoka now!”

The speeder behind them was lifted off the ground onto its side and the thugs in and around it flew backwards as a wave of Force energy was unleashed by Ahsoka. It surprised her, Zyon could feel that through their bond. He doubted that she had caused destruction like that before with a single wave, but the bond between them had allowed him to add some of his own power to the blow.

Hondo ran towards them and vaulted into the speeder as Zyon t-boned the burning wreckage of the speeder that was blocking their path, knocking it aside.

By the time Jabba’s thugs had recovered and started firing back, Zyon, Hondo, and Ahsoka were gone, laughing as they sped out into the vast deserts of Tatooine.

**-0-**

Once they had left the outskirts of Mos Eisley, Ahsoka turned to Hondo and Zyon. “How’d you guys get that speeder to explode at the same moment you hit the accelerator?”

“A favorite trick of his called ‘distraction’,” Zyon said with a smile.

Hondo laughed again, as was typical. “Presentation, my dear. They all get distracted by my arm gestures that they don’t notice the remote detonator rolled under their speeder.”

“He also never shakes hands on deals,” Zyon said with a smirk.

“Now what did I tell you years ago, Zyon? Never shake on something because there will always be a better deal,” Hondo said, mockingly scolding Zyon. Ahsoka laughed, reminded of something Master Kenobi had told her once. Something his master Qui-Gon had once told him.  _ ‘There’s always a bigger fish.’ _

Something was nagging at her though. Something the twi’lek thug had said. “Hey Hondo? Why didn’t you sell us out to the Hutts? I doubt that you would turn down credits of that magnitude.”

“Another rule you two need to remember, never deal with a Hutt. It can end only in two ways: chains or a body bag. Sometimes not even that.” Hondo turned to her. “I must say I wish I had a Jedi fight with me more often. If you hadn’t taken out those small-brained fools behind us, it might have been harder for us to escape.”

Ahsoka nodded with a smile, but inside she was still wary about what had happened. Not anything that Hondo had done, but the power behind the wave she had sent at the thugs behind them.

She knew that Zyon had lent some of his strength and power to her through their bond through some kind of Force Chain. It had almost seemed to multiply. The sheer raw power that coursed through Zyon and surrounded him in the Force astounded her and made her question not for the first time what would happen to the galaxy were he to fall to the dark side. The destruction would be… catastrophic.

She quickly moved to a different subject. “Hey, Hondo? Where are we headed?”

“Out to the most desolate regions of Tatooine, Ahsoka,” Hondo answered. “Deep in the Great Dune Sea. But first, we’ll stop at the Pika Oasis once we get past through the Jundland Wastes. There we’ll stock up on both food and water for our journey out into the Dune Sea.”

“But first we’ll have to survive the Jundland Wastes,” Zyon said, pointing at the craggy formations in the distance. “They’re chock full of Tusken Raiders, Jawas, and bandits.”

“Sounds lovely,” Ahsoka said.

“Say, Ahsoka,” Hondo asked, turning to look at her, “you wouldn’t happen to still have your lightsaber, would you?”

Ahsoka and Zyon shared a glance in the rear-view mirror of the speeder. She felt him speak to her through their bond, telling her not to mention the lightsaber he still had. So she didn’t.

“No, I don’t,” Ahsoka responded. “They were taken from me when I was kicked out of the order and I never got them back. You wouldn’t happen to have raided another Jedi ship and stolen more younglings’ lightsabers?”

“Sadly,” Hondo said with mock sadness, “I have not. Would you like to though? Once we get off this planet?”

Ahsoka laughed. “I’ll have to decline on that one, Hondo.”

Some time later, they were enveloped in shade as they entered the Jundland Wastes. Zyon spoke to both Hondo and Ahsoka. “Watch the cliffs and caves. We don’t know where the Sand People will come out from.”

Ahsoka nodded, “I’ll be surprised if they don’t attack us.”

The speeder slowly navigated its way through the wastes, passing by one craggy rock formation after another. Ahsoka scanned the rocks, reaching out with the Force in an attempt to sense any life forms that might be nearby. She could detect some, moving in the same direction ahead of them. “We’re being watched.” 

The twin suns dipped lower in the sky, casting shadows across the canyons that made it even harder to determine what was rock and what was not.

There! Up ahead, about a few hundred meters away, were a group of lifeforms that she could feel through the Force. She wasn’t surprised. Tuskens tended to do most of their raids at night. “Ambush up ahead. I can feel it.”

Zyon nodded and pulled his blaster out of his holster and let it rest on the speeder’s dashboard. They slowly advanced towards it and Ahsoka could see why the tuskens had chosen this location.

The path had widened slightly into almost a bowl, with rocks and boulders dotting the sloping walls. Plenty of spaces to hide and snipe anyone foolish or crazy enough to be wandering the rocky trails.

The attack came from the right. There was the crack of a slugthrower and the slug pinged off of the speeder below Ahsoka. Zyon immediately threw the speeder into a series of evasive maneuvers as hoots and calls echoed from everywhere. The cliffs opened up in a barrage of slugs and the occasional blaster. 

Swerving madly from side to side, Zyon somehow managed to find some shelter for the speeder among a craggy group of rocks.

The hail of fire stopped as suddenly as it began, the Tuskens waiting for clear targets to shoot at.

Ahsoka jumped out of the speeder and laid herself flat against their cover, breathing deeply. “Everyone okay?”

“It takes more than a few cloth-wrapped crazies to stop Hondo!” came the cry from her left and she broke out in laughter despite their desperate situation. Zyon did the same from the other side of the Weequay pirate.

“I think we all made it okay, minus a few dents and holes in the speeder,” Zyon said, “but the moment we leave this cover, the Tuskens will slaughter us.”

“How lovely,” Ahsoka said, peeking her head above their cover to get a visual on their situation and their escape routes. 

_ CRACK!  _

Came the report of a slugthrower from the cliffs and the slug pinged off of the rock next to her head. Ahsoka immediately dropped back under cover, her head almost having been blown off.

“Don’t lose your head thinking a way out of here,” teased Zyon, and she glared at him for a moment. He gave her one of those shit-eating grins on his face and she knocked him over with a small Force push, eliciting a yelp of surprise and annoyance.

“We can’t leave,” Ahsoka shook her head, her montrals swaying slightly. “We’ll get shot down before we get 10 meters. But we also can’t stay here for long, I can feel them repositioning and moving towards us. Wait…” she closed her eyes, searching through the Force.  _ There! _

Ahsoka’s eyes snapped open and she brought her blaster up so fast her arms appeared to move in a blur. She snapped off a couple shots and a Tusken fell from his position above them.

Cries and hoots erupted from all around them. Ahsoka peeked over their cover to see a dozen or so Tuskens charging at them. Their comrades continued to take potshots at them, so Ahsoka, Zyon, and Hondo could only get off one or two blaster shots before being forced to duck back under cover.

It didn’t take long for the charging Tuskens to reach them. Thankfully though, the other Tuskens had stopped firing, for fear that they would hit their comrades instead.

Ahsoka dropped her blaster and unsheathed her vibroblade. Two of them charged her, swinging their gaderffii sticks with deadly precision. Ahsoka parried one and ducked under the blow of the other, evading their strikes with her speed and agility until she found an opening, darting under one’s attack and slicing him across the chest with her vibroblade.

Meanwhile, Hondo had also drawn a melee weapon, the machete-like vibroblade he used against General Grievous’ droids on Florrum. He appeared to be swinging it wildly in long, arcing movements, but Ahsoka recognized the subtle strategy Hondo fought with. A Tusken moved in close, seeing an opening, but was killed as Hondo sprung his trap, impaling the Tusken through the side with a dagger he held in his off-hand.

While all this was going on, Zyon was grappling with a Tusken over a gaderffii. Despite the life or death situation in which they currently found themselves, he was fighting with his hands. He managed to leverage the gaderffii out of the Tusken’s hands and swung it up, clobbering the underside of the warrior’s jaw. Bone shattered and the Tusken dropped, a small pool of blood forming on the sand under him.

_ CRACK!  _ Zyon cried out in pain as the slug from a Tusken’s rifle bored its way into his leg. Ahsoka’s own leg buckled underneath her and she faltered. One of the Tuskens she was fighting took advantage of the opening and brought his gaderffii down at her skull. Ahsoka barely got her vibroblade up in time to intercept the blow.

She grit her teeth as she lay on her back, holding off the tusken as he brought his gaderffii down repeatedly against her vibroblade hooting and hollering the entire time. Another tusken charged her, gaderffii held high and aimed at Ahsoka’s undefended side. Suddenly the Tusken lurched and fell forward, a dagger stuck fast in its eyepiece.

The tusken above her lost focus turning to look at its dead comrade. Ahsoka used it, thrusting her arm out and knocking the tusken back. She turned as she got up, seeing Hondo running towards her. “Nice throw,” she said. “Get Zyon under cover, I’ll handle the Tuskens.”

Hondo nodded. “Something tells me you’ll need this,” he said, tossing her his vibroblade. Ahsoka caught it with a nod and spun it to hold in a reverse grip, falling into her familiar Jar’Kai stance. They may not be lightsabers, but it felt nice to be wielding two weapons again.

Ahsoka flipped forward into the fray, going toe to toe with the swarm of Tusken warriors. Several fell, sliced by her whirling blades, but Ahsoka did not come out unscathed. Vibroblades were not lightsabers. The blades had weight, unlike a lightsaber blade which was weightless. The motions were not as she remembered, the weight of the blades altering them. With one blade per hand, she left openings in her defenses.

Openings the Tuskens took advantage of.

Ahsoka took several blows to her legs and sides, tanking them and keeping up the fight while Hondo and Zyon provided whatever cover they could until one Tusken finally slipped through her guard and smacked her in the chest with his gaderffii.

Ahsoka was knocked to the ground, landing on her back. The Tuskens celebrated, holding their gaderffii high in the air as they cried loudly.

_ Ayooooo-eh-EH-EHH! _

The cry echoed across the desert, reverberating around the walls and cliffs. The Tuskens paused, looking at each other nervously. The cry came again and they began agitatedly yelling at each other.

_ AYOOOO-EEEEEEEEEE! _

It was louder now, closing in. The Tuskens turned and fled, one of them seemingly attempting to call them all back and halt the retreat. The sound came again, but this time it almost sounded… mechanical. Like it wasn’t coming from anything organic. The Tusken gave up though as another sound reached Ahsoka’s montrals.

She heard the hum of repulsors and turned her head to see several speeders roll in, the occupants firing at the fleeing Tuskens. Ahsoka pushed herself to her knees as one speeder split off from the rest and came to a halt next to her. Someone in it yelled to the others. “Give ‘em hell boys! Show these wrapped lunatics what moisture farmers are capable of!”

With a bunch of hoots and hollers, the rest of the group shot after the fleeing Tuskens and a human jumped out of the speeder next to Ahsoka, grabbing her under the shoulder and helping her up. “Now what’s a young one like you doing out in the Jundland Wastes?”

Shielding her eyes from the setting suns, Ahsoka looked up. Standing before her was a human male who appeared to be towards the upper end of middle age. His black hair was graying. “Who are you?”

“Sorry,” the man said, offering his hand, “Orrin Gault. Moisture farmer, entrepreneur, and professional Tusken hunter.”

“Professional, eh?” Ahsoka chuckled. “Well, we appreciate the save.”

Hondo left cover, supporting a limping Zyon as they approached the new arrivals. Orrin Gault nodded to them as they approached. “We’ve been chasing Plug-Eye for a while. Damn Tusken raided a moisture farm earlier today and fled before we could get there. I guess the maniacs came after you as well.”

“Plug-Eye? Who’s that?” Asked Zyon.

Gault grunted, frustration and anger present in it as he looked after the dust clouds where the others had pursued the Tuskens. “The leader of this band of Tuskens. They’re more bold than others, mostly because of Plug-Eye. Thankfully, they’re still easily startled by the roar of a krayt dragon,” Gault turned back to them. “So where’re you three headed?”

Hondo answered the question. “My friend, we are headed to the East Dune Sea. My dear father recently passed away and had a mining holding out there. These two friends of mine are accompanying me to see if it is profitable.”

Gault nodded and shrugged. “Best of luck to ya. Y’all are probably gonna want to stop by the Pika Oasis first before you go out into the desert. Especially now after the fight you were just through. We can give you an escort in if you want.”

Zyon nodded. “We’d appreciate it. Thanks.”

“Not a problem, young man,” Gault said with a smile. “Allow us to show you some true Tatooine hospitality.”

Not too much time later, they were pulling into a small community. Gault had told them all about the Pika Oasis and the amazing general store/community gathering place Dannar’s Claim. He also told them about the Settler’s Call, a protection network that he himself had set up to shorten the response time to Tusken raids on the outlying moisture farms. Gault had said that if Hondo was indeed going to open up his father’s old mining operation to keep the Settler’s Call in mind.

The speeders pulled up in front of a large building: Dannar’s Claim. Attached to it was a dewback pen and on the other side was a large moisture vaporator. Gault had claimed it produced the best tasting water on Tatooine, a reputation that Ahsoka, Zyon, and Hondo didn’t really care about. They just needed some water after their ordeal in the desert.

Gault led them into the general store. It was well stocked, but Ahsoka was surprised that halfway down, the general store turned into a sort of restaurant. There was a rodian sitting quietly, just staring at his caf.

“Annie!” Gault yelled out.

“What?” came a voice from the other end of the counter where a human female in about her mid-30s was chatting with a Zeltron.

“Looks like you’ve picked up a few new customers,” Gault said, motioning towards Ahsoka, Zyon, and Hondo. “Ran into them chasing ol’ Plug-Eye. Karking Tusken ambushed them in the Jundland Wastes.”

The human, Ahsoka guessed was “Annie”, squinted at them, sizing them up. She shrugged and said, “Welcome to Dannar’s Claim. Name’s Annileen Calwell. Haven’t seen you around here before.”

“I haven’t been back to Tatooine in a long time, Ms. Calwell,” Hondo said, bowing at the waist. “I was here once many years ago with my late father. He took me to one of his mining holdings out in the East Dune Sea. He left it to me when he passed away. My friends and I were looking to see if its still profitable. Last I heard it had been closed for a while.”

“Place has probably had at least one cave-in then. You’ll probably need gear to dig it out. Don’t worry, Dannar’s Claim has everything you’ll ever need in the desert.”

Despite the extreme late hour, Annileen Calwell stayed true to her word. Everything they would need for a mining expedition was in stock at the general store. Handheld mining tools purchased, they sat down on the other side of the store, which was a kind of restaurant, that Annileen also ran as well. The food was good, better than Ahsoka expected, especially given the hour they were eating at. Being a togruta, a carnivorous species, Ahsoka had a bantha steak. The water was expensive, something to be expected on the arid Tatooine, but apparently Gault had been telling the truth. It  _ was  _ some of the best water she had ever had, although that might have been influenced by being in the desert.

Annileen revealed that she didn’t know why it was so good. Apparently it came from the first vaporator her husband Dannar had set up. Dannar had died several years ago, and Annileen refused to change the settings on the vaporator in fear that she would be unable to find that setting again.

Gault put the bite on them again to join the Settler’s Call, claiming that they’d need protection out at the mining site. Hondo shrugged him off yet again, saying they’d decide what to do based on what they find at the mine.

In the morning, they were off. Leaving the Pika Oasis at the crack of dawn, the three headed out into the barren wastes of the East Dune Sea for the Lightspring.

To pass the time, Zyon asked Hondo why he had continually deflected Gault’s questions about joining the Settler’s Fund. Even if they were never coming back to Tatooine, it was clear that the moisture farmers were struggling. They could have used the extra credits, and it wasn’t like the three would need a few credits when there was a massive treasure waiting for them.

“I’ve been around the galaxy, Zyon,” Hondo explained, “and I have known all kinds of people. There’s something in Gault’s eyes, a desperation to save only himself, not those people around him. He is in trouble, and I think the Settler’s Fund is the only way he believes he can save himself. That’s why I told him I’d wait until later to decide, and why I gave him false coordinates for our destination.”

Occasionally they’d see a Jawa sandcrawler or a herd of banthas out in the distance. There was even a sighting of the skeleton of a krayt dragon just outside a large cave, bones bleached white by years of exposure to the twin suns.

After a few hours of travel, the trio finally made it to their destination: a large collection of caves out on the far edge of the East Dune Sea.

“It’s just as I remember it,” Hondo mused as they shut off the speeder. “The Lightspring is a group of caves and caverns that do contain drinkable water. They’re one of the Sand People’s most revered sites. The other part of Sanfol’s map was once in the possession of a crime lord named Diago, who had created a base of operations in these caves. He was killed by a smuggler looking for Nok Drayen’s treasure and the map was lost here.

“Braldeq and I came here with the rest of our crew years ago. There was a sandstorm that day, a storm that hid the Sand People chasing us. They waited for us to enter before ambushing us, cutting off our retreat. I managed to find another exit and I tried to get Braldeq to retreat. To live another day, but he refused. Being so close to the map that would lead to untold riches, he pushed on. There was a partial cave-in as me and a couple others left him, exiting the caves and surviving. We never found Braldeq’s body.”

Ahsoka turned in a circle, eyes closed and senses reaching out. “I can sense some lifeforms, possibly Tuskens, but they still have a ways to go before hitting us. If we move quickly, we can be in and out before they arrive.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be safe though,” Hondo said. “Zyon, hide the speeder nearby.”

Zyon nodded and found a small cave nearby with no other entry and exit. It was mostly hidden by rocks, but there was enough of a hole to hide the speeder. He ran back quickly and the trio entered the cave.

**-0-**

The opening had been shortened and narrowed by time, cave-ins shortening the initial passage. Hondo lit a torch, the flickering firelight casting eerie shadows in the confined space. Clambering up the rocks was exhausting, but a short time later the passage widened into a massive tunnel system.

Giant stalactites and stalagmites were everywhere. Boulders and other debris littered the ground. Ancient droid parts were strewn everywhere showing ancient lightsaber and blaster damage. Hondo explained that they were once owned by the crime lord Diago Hixen. Diago was killed thousands of years ago in a confrontation between himself, a smuggler, a Jedi, and a Sith.

They continued onward and downwards into the system, soon coming on a fork in the tunnel. There were a few skeletons there on the ground, flesh long since stripped from the bones by microorganisms and scavengers. Some had been crushed by rocks, others killed by slugthrowers. Others still were wrapped in the rough cloth garments of the Sand People.

Hondo pointed to the smaller passage, which sloped up. “That’s how we escaped. That passage leads to a narrow crevice. We managed to shimmy our way up to the surface, losing a couple in the process.” He looked down. “This was the last place I ever saw my mentor alive. I remember his eyes: crazed and obsessed with the promise of riches. It killed him.”

Hondo shook himself, throwing his head from side to side. “Enough of that though, we must push on.” He turned down the fateful path that had killed Braldeq all those years ago.

The cave-in lasted for maybe about a hundred yards. Hondo and Zyon used the mining equipment they bought at Dannar’s Claim to widen their path and create a tunnel through the collapsed rock. Ahsoka stood at the ready to catch any cave-in with the Force. 

It was slow going. The air seemed heavier because all three knew the longer it took here, the more time the Sand People would have to catch them. But if they moved too fast, the entire passage could collapse and bury them alive.

Finally, they came out the other side of the cave-in to find a metal bridge over a stream of water. Hondo stood up, awe in his eyes. “Diago’s Retreat. I never thought I’d see it.”

Against the rock walls were large shelves containing rare trinkets and treasures. Bones from three skeletons lay on the ground near what must have been Diago’s throne. Two were human, and a lightsaber lay next to one.

Ahsoka picked it up, the crystal was weak. She thumbed the activation stud and it ignited into a crimson blade. The lightsaber sputtered before going out completely. “Must have been the Sith’s weapon,” Zyon remarked as Ahsoka tossed the useless lightsaber aside.

Hondo gasped and moved quickly to an alcove on the other side of Diago’s throne. Another skeleton lay there, the skull clearly indicating it was a Rodian. “It’s him.” Hondo said quietly. Rummaging through the pockets of the skeleton’s clothes, Hondo pulled out a holo-journal.

Zyon took it from Hondo’s hand and inserted it into an old holorecorder. He keyed up the last entry, and a smaller version of the Rodian treasure hunter illuminated in holograph form began speaking in Huttese.

_ “At last, the other half of the map to Davik Kang’s treasure. My crew, they do not understand. Nothing is won without risk, nothing is gained without struggle. I will make it out of here, and Kang’s treasure will be mine! All-” _

The recording cut off as the image of Braldeq jerked, a splash of Rodian blood flying from his back where the Tusken had shot him.

Hondo just stared at the now blank holo-player. Zyon rummaged through Braldeq’s rucksack, pulling out a dented carrying case. Opening it, two torn pieces of paper fell out onto the ground. He picked them up. “It’s a map of Taris alright. We got what we came for, we should go now before the Sand People get here.”

“Too late.” Ahsoka said from behind him.

Zyon and Hondo whirled to look back at the way they came. Crawling out of the passage they had made was a Tusken Raider. It got out and lifted its slugthrower, joining the dozen already standing there.

The Tuskens hooted and hollered. Hondo tried to placate them with both words and hand gestures, but they appeared to have none of it. Ahsoka stepped forward, waving her hand from left to right. “We are not your enemies. You want to let us pass.”

There was a pregnant pause before a few of the Tuskens lowered their slugthrowers and stepped aside to allow them passage. The others stared at them in shock and surprise before turning back to Ahsoka. 

One shrieked and raised their gaderffii, charging at Ahsoka. It seemed to snap the others out of her Jedi Mind Trick and they also either charged with gaderffii or shot at them with slugthrowers or blasters. “Zyon!” Ahsoka yelled. “Do it!”

Zyon sighed, but he knew he had no choice. Ahsoka already knew of his secret and it was only a matter of time before Hondo learned it as well. He reached into his jacket and retrieved his lightsaber. Oh well… it would help to not have to worry about hiding his identity from Hondo anymore. Besides, if Hondo tried anything he knew Ahsoka would have his back.

Thumbing the activation stud, the violet blade flared to life. The Tuskens stopped and stared at it in shock and surprise. One of them hooted in alarm and they turned and fled back through the passage. Hondo laughed with glee. “Impressive bluff, Zyon. Many fools in this galaxy will run if they see a lightsaber,”he paused, thoughtful. “But that would have helped earlier in both Mos Eisley and the Jundland Wastes. Where’d you get that lightsaber? Unless…”

He was cut off as the ground began to shake under their feet and stones began to fall from the ceiling. “They’re trying to seal us in!” Ahsoka yelled. “Run!”

The trio double timed it through the passage as rock and stone fell on top of them. They managed to spill out of the narrow passage into the larger tunnel. The small passage that Hondo and his crew had escaped through was blocked, leaving the tunnel system opening their only hope. They took off running up the incline, throwing all their energy into their legs to keep going.

The ceiling started coming down in larger chunks. Hondo tripped as a stalactite crashed into the ground next to him. “I’m dead!” Hondo yelled as another stalactite plummeted towards him, ready to skewer the pirate.

“NO!” Zyon yelled, throwing his hands out. He caught the huge chunk of rock with the Force, struggling to keep it up. “Hondo, run!” He yelled.

Hondo starred in Zyon at shock as he got to his feet. “You… a Jedi?” 

Behind him, Ahsoka had stopped, using the Force to keep the tunnel entrance open. “Go! I’ll cover you!” she called to them.

Zyon let the rocks fall after Hondo had passed him. Zyon turned and ran with him, fighting off the fatigue that slowed his limbs. He could feel the jungle creeping up on him. He couldn’t keep using the Force for much longer. He still couldn’t control it like he once could. Ahsoka had helped him keep the darkness of the jungle at bay, but it was still there lurking at the edge of his mind.

He made it to the entrance, Hondo crouched next to him. Extending a hand, Zyon grabbed the rocks and stones that Ahsoka was keeping from crushing her. “Ahsoka now!”

Ahsoka dropped her arms and the strain on Zyon intensified. The jungle called to him. It’s power reached out to him, begging for him to welcome it back. Zyon refused, despite the quivering of his arms and the stress on his mind. Ahsoka scrambled up the rocks to the entrance, and Zyon dropped the load with a shaky, deep breath.

They were crouched in a little alcove, sheltered from the cave in and Tuskens who were undoubtedly waiting for them. But here they were safe and protected.

Hondo touched his shoulder. “You’re a Jedi?”

“Was a Jedi.” Zyon said. “I left the Order before I fell in with you.”

“You lied to me?” Hondo said. He slung an arm around Zyon’s shoulders. “I knew I liked you!”

“You’re not mad?” Zyon asked carefully.

“Of course I am,” Hondo answered. “Think of all the plunder we could have gotten if I had known you were a Jedi!”

“Hondo,” Ahsoka said in a slightly joking, slightly patronizing voice.

“Alright, alright,” Hondo conceded. “I don’t blame you Zyon. Jedi aren’t really well liked by pirates. Some days I like Jedi, some days I don’t. Today I do!”

“We still need to get out of here,” Ahsoka said.

Taking a moment to double-check blaster powerpacks, vibroblades, and lightsabers, the trio left the shelter of the alcove to step out into the hot Tatooine suns. Blasters roared, Tuskens shouted, a lightsaber buzzed, and a speeder drove off back in the direction of Mos Eisley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this long overdue chapter. Next time Ahsoka, Zyon, and Hondo are off to Taris!
> 
> And now a small self-promotion: if you like my writing style and are a fan of the Alien franchise, please consider heading over to my other current work-in-progress on my account. Galaxy-121: Shadows of Doubt is a crossover between Star Wars and Alien(s), with Ahsoka, a few rebels, and a few imperials facing off against xenomorphs! I have great plans for that series and would greatly appreciate it if you checked it out. I realize horror/suspense isn't everyone's cup of tea, so only check it out if you want to. :)


	10. Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka, Zyon, and Hondo have found a map leading to the Lost Treasure of Davik Kang and have set out on the final leg of their journey. However, unbeknownst to them, they will be stalked every step of the way by multiple parties, each with their own reasons and goals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am so, so sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter finished. Between a long bout of writer's block that is still plaguing me and trying to write two stories at the same time, I don't know when the next chapter will be released either. I hope you all enjoy this overdue chapter though.

_ “Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is.” - Yoda _

**-0-**

The planet Taris definitely had a long, tragic history. The planet was once seen as the Coruscant of the Outer Rim, with the 70% of the surface not covered by ocean being a massive ecumenopolis. Located on the Hydian Way, it had once been a nexus for commerce thousands of years ago, but with the discovery of improved hyperspace routes Taris began a gradual descent into disrepair.

Civil war had once raged across Taris, caused by the poisoning of Taris’ oceans by toxic pollution. Famine swept the planet, and the rich nobles hoarded food and supplies, leaving the poor to starve and die. The poor revolted, but failed and were thrown down into the rakghoul infested Undercity, never again to see the light of the Tarisian sun under penalty of death.

And then the Jedi Civil War came. Legends said that a Jedi mission crashed on Taris. In an attempt to stop the Jedi from escaping, the Sith Lord Darth Malak ordered his fleet to bombard Taris and leave nothing standing. The Jedi escaped barely, with some help from other survivors from the Jedi mission, and Malak died some time later at the hands of his former master, Revan.

Taris was a wasteland though. Billions of civilians died in the bombardment, and billions more died from the toxins brought to the surface by the turbolaser blasts. Countless more were turned into monstrous rakghouls that now populated the surface.

Taris eventually recovered. Centuries later, the planet would be repopulated by the Republic in an attempt to restore the planet somewhat. The Sith Empire, however, opposed them at ever step of the way, and the Republic lost control of Taris despite their and the Jedi Order’s best attempts.

By the age of the Clone Wars, the Taris Recolonization Project had finally somewhat succeeded. Cities once again dotted its surface. It was a part of the Council of Neutral Systems, once led by the late Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore.

Toxic waste pits still were sprinkled across the planet however, too potent to be easily cleaned up. Major progress had been made, although it would take many more years for the planet to be completely purged of the toxins that laced its surface. One of these waste pits was known by many Tarisians as the Sunken City, an area of Taris where the ground under the giant skyscrapers had liquified under the mighty force of Malak’s turbolasers. Mangled wreckage lay everywhere amongst the shifting soils and puddles of toxic goop occasionally marred the ground.

“Zyon,” Ahsoka said in a mock whine as she skirted the side of a large pit of toxic waste, “why don’t you ever take me anywhere nice?”

Zyon turned to smirk at her. “Once this is all over, I’ll guarantee you we’ll go to a nice tropical planet and enjoy the perks of finding lost treasure by relaxing on a secluded beach.”

Ahsoka scoffed. “You just want to see me in a swimsuit, don’t you?” 

Zyon responded with a sheepish grin, causing Ahsoka to roll her eyes. “Figures.” Despite herself, she couldn’t stop the small smile that formed on her face.

They turned to face a sound approaching them. It got louder and louder until they could see the object making it. Ahsoka identified it as a speeder bike with a very familiar Nikto onboard.

“Syr!” Zyon called out to him. “Glad you could make it.”

Syr Keth stepped off his speeder bike with a big smile on his face. “Zyon! Thanks for the invite.” He paused seeing the lightsaber hanging from Zyon’s belt. “You’ve come to terms with it?”

Zyon nodded, glancing over at Ahsoka with a slight smile. “Yeah, I did.”

Syr wrapped him in a massive bear hug. “I’m happy for you, Zyon. Truly, I am.”

“I’ve asked Ahsoka to retrain me as well.” Zyon said, nodding over at Ahsoka who was leaning against Syr’s speeder bike.

“So I was right,” Syr said triumphantly, dropping Zyon and turning to Ahsoka. “I knew I recognized your face.” He pointed over his shoulder at Zyon. “Take care of him, will you? He can be a bit of a hassle.”

“Oh I know,” Ahsoka laughed, even more so at Zyon’s flustered response. They introduced Syr to Hondo. Syr had heard of the Weequay pirate’s reputation, but had never met him in person.

“So what’s the plan?” Syr asked.

“According to the map,” Hondo said, “Davik’s estate was at the top of one of the skyscrapers that collapsed here under the bombardment thousands of years ago. We’ll need to get to the other side of this large waste pit to gain entry to the building and then make our way to the penthouse. That’s where the vault Davik held his riches in was located.”

“What can we expect to face?” Zyon asked.

Syr answered. “Despite Taris’ rebuilding, there are still quite a few scavengers in the area who are just barely scraping by. They’re fiercely territorial and will fight any interlopers they find. Other than that there’s likely to be rakghouls here as well.”

“Rakghouls?” Ahsoka asked in confusion. She had never heard of rakghouls before.

“Rakghouls are mutant humanoids infected by the rakghoul plague, a disease thought to be created millenia ago by Sith alchemy,” Syr explained. “The plague is carried by every rakghoul, and can be spread simply by being scratched by a rakghoul claw or being bitten.

“Other than that there’s the toxic waste lying around everywhere. Please try not to fall into it.” Syr handed out gas masks to the other three members of the party. “We might need these in the ruins. Not sure what toxins lie in there.”

“There now,” Hondo said cheerfully. “Let’s go carefully and walk away rich!”

**-0-**

Ayllis Felhun watched the quartet of outsiders from her vantage point in the twisted wreckage half jutting out of a massive pit of toxic waste. Years of scavenging things for herself had allowed her to go places many wouldn’t dare go. The rakghouls wouldn’t come after her in this waste pit either, no matter how big their desire for flesh and blood was.

Millenia old tech wasn’t really worth anything to a lot of people, but sometimes she would find artifacts to sell to collectors or tech that would somehow still work with a bit of tuning. Marooned on this damned planet since she was 16, the 28-year old human didn’t have many options other than scavenging the hulks of the destroyed Taris ecumenopolis.

Born to spacer parents, her family’s merchant freighter had been attacked by pirates when she was 15. Her father was killed. Her mother, older brother, and herself were taken to be sold into slavery. Being 18 standard years of age, her brother was sold to the spice mines on Kessel and was probably dead. No slave lasted long on Kessel. Her mother was sold to a Hutt to repay some debt the pirate leader owed them. Ayllis had been kept by the pirates and was their slave for months until the pirates set down at some base they had on this planet. Another captive and her had managed to escape their cells and made a break for it, hoping to lose them in the wilderness. Her partner was shot down by the pursuing pirates as they ran and Ayllis had hidden inside a hollow log, holding her breath as the pirates first executed him, then searched for her. 

Then the beasts showed up. Bleeding from their eyes and mouths, the monsters fell upon the pirates in a swarm, ripping and tearing them to pieces. The surviving pirates ran and fled, but the monsters followed, destroying their camp. Ayllis had spent the night huddled in that log, shivering in the night air. When she emerged in the morning, the monsters were all gone, leaving only shredded bodies behind. The pirate camp had been destroyed and their ships were gone, having fled when the creatures attacked. They never came back.

Ayllis had made that pirate camp her home for the past decade. Years of living by herself had toughened her into the grizzled scavenger she was today. And now these four outsiders might be her way off Taris.

Barely a day’s walk from her home was a treasure so vast she could live the good life forever!

She doubted they’d cut her in though. Every other outsider she had approached asking for help had turned away the scrappy, rugged scavenger or tried to use her for their own advantage. Ayllis had killed more than a few and left their bodies for the scavenging rakghouls.

No, these four were more of the same. They would not help her.

Resting a hand on the hilt of the blaster she had taken from a dead pirate, she watched as they moved towards the largest wreck of all: an old skyscraper that she had been inside and picked through over and over again. Somehow she had missed a treasure inside that thing!

It would be tough to get though. Not only would Ayllis have to take out the quartet of outsiders before her, but rakghouls periodically patrolled the building. She had a trump card though. Ayllis knew the ventilation systems of that place like the back of her hand. She knew where the entrances were, where the exits were, where they were blocked, etc.

Ayllis could follow them discreetly through the vents, safe from the rakghouls that would no doubt lock in on them after a while. A bonus was that, unlike her with her lithe form, the rakghouls could not fit inside most of the vents.

After they found the treasure they sought, she would steal it from under their noses, leave them for the rakghouls, take their ship and leave rich.

It wouldn’t be easy, but it was better than doing nothing until her luck inevitably ran out. Nothing was easy on Taris anyways.

Leaving her perch, Ayllis ran, leaped, and swung her way across the decaying ruins in pursuit of her future.

**-0-**

It didn’t take long for the four to reach the ruins of the skyscraper that once housed Davik Kang’s estate. The shifting soil caused some instances of footing giving out from underneath the group and a close call with a sinkhole filled with polluted waste that almost claimed Ahsoka, who was only saved by a last second Force-assisted jump.

Climbing up old ruins was also risky, and they had a few close calls where handholds or footholds gave way. They scampered up the side of the skyscraper towards a large gash that was their entry point.

Making it up there, Ahsoka shimmied along ancient window frames to the opening and managed to climb inside. It was a strange sensation, to be walking on the walls. She found herself in what had to once be an apartment. There was what appeared to be a closet in the corner, all the contents of which long since gone from probably scavengers or looters. Syr followed her inside, followed by Hondo and then Zyon bringing up the rear.

They found the exit into the main hallway. The map indicated that they had to move to the top of the skyscraper, but in order to do that, they needed to find a stairwell or some means of what would once be ascending the building. They found a turbolift shaft, any turbolifts or elevators this building might have once had were long since destroyed or non-functional, but the shaft for the most part was passable.

It had split in some locations, causing the shaft to slope up at some points and then slope downwards in others. There was also the occasional ledge they had to deal with, but the drops or climbs were definitely manageable for two former Jedi.

They had made it about halfway along the shaft when Ahsoka sensed something in the Force. Something that was approaching them. She dropped down another ledge and stopped to scan the area around her. Her montrals picked up something approaching them from behind, coming up the elevator shaft. It was alone, but unlike anything she had ever felt in the Force before.

When the turbolift shaft had cracked at this junction, it had left open an alcove below it that was just big enough for them to all squeeze in lying prone on their stomachs. Ahsoka and Zyon grabbed some random debris with the Force and used it to partially cover the entrance, there wasn’t enough to fully obstruct them from view if whoever, or whatever, was coming after them had a good enough angle of sight.

Footsteps pounded the ground as the presence came closer and closer to them. Heavy footsteps that sent vibrations rippling along the old metal of the turbolift shaft. Suddenly, they stopped.

“It’s right above us,” Ahsoka whispered, her breath caught in her throat.

“No one move,” Zyon ordered slowly and quietly.

A liquid of some kind dripped viscously onto the durasteel before them and they heard a growl from right above their heads. There was the scratching and squealing of claws on metal that set the quartet’s teeth on edge. The creature jumped down in front of them and they saw its pale, waxy skin. 

The creature was hideous, possessing massive claws on its hands and feet and spines on its back and head. Vicious teeth gleamed as it turned its head, scanning the territory around it.

“It’s a rakghoul!” Syr whispered harshly.

Suddenly the rakghoul froze. It arched its back and roared into the air before taking off up the shaft towards what was once the top of the skyscraper.

**-0-**

Ayllis watched the group of rakghouls approach the decrepit skyscraper from a window about halfway up. Brushing her reddish-brown hair out of her face, she brought the macrobinoculars to her face again. There were maybe four or five, too many for Ayllis to take out even from her vantage point. She had followed the quartet of outsiders inside and had hunkered down in this apartment. The entrance to the old ventilation system lay open next to her, but she waited patiently to see what would happen.

There were already rakghouls inside the skyscraper. The one lying on the ground behind her with smoke rising from the several blaster holes in it’s chest was evidence of that. She had seen another one trailing the outsiders from the vents and watched as it hunted for them. Those outsiders were lucky, ordinarily they wouldn’t have made it out of there without the rakghoul attacking. But something had happened.

The rakghoul had been called away by this other group outside. Ayllis watched more rakghouls run in to congregate around what looked to be a nekghoul standing upright amongst the hunched rakghouls. She knew what that meant. The rakghouls knew there were outsiders here. Ayllis smiled grimly to herself. The four treasure hunters were as good as dead. Nekghouls were nasty business, being larger and smarter than the typical rakghoul. They had the strange ability to move objects without touching them, and they were extremely violent.

Her comlink crackled. She had taken this one off of a dead pirate and discovered that it could be used to tap into other conversations. As Ayllis listened to the scraps of the message being transmitted before she realized it wasn’t the outsiders in the turbolift shaft the nekghoul was after. 

There was another group in the area, and they were hunting the outsiders.

**-0-**

Ahsoka and the others moved swiftly and quietly along the turbolift shaft. Yes, this was the path the rakghoul had taken, but they couldn’t back out now. According to Syr, where you saw one rakghoul, there were probably a half-dozen. Staying in one place for too long meant that they would eventually be found by the rakghouls, so they had to keep moving.

They made it close to the penthouse without issue, but they were forced to stop in their tracks. Before them the skyscraper had fallen into another building, destroying its frame and leaving a long gap in between them and their objective. The only thing connecting the skyscraper to the penthouse was a few girders and random supports.

To complicate matters even more, the penthouse area itself lay over a pit of toxic waste. They had no clue how stable it was. Normally the fall distance wouldn’t have affected Zyon or Ahsoka, but even the Force could not protect them from falling into a pit whose contents pulsed with a green color.

“Do we risk it?” Ahsoka asked the others.

Hondo looked concerned, a rarity given the Weequay pirate’s usual demeanor. Then Ahsoka remembered the fate that had befallen his mentor, Stuska Braldeq. Braldeq had pushed on in the face of inevitable death because the call of glory and treasure had been too much for him.

“I think if we’re careful, we can make it,” Zyon said. “I’ll go first, see if it’s stable.” Zyon’s words seemed to restore some of the confidence in Hondo, who nodded his approval. Zyon turned to Ahsoka. “Be ready to catch me if I fall.”

“I will,” she nodded. Zyon began to turn when Ahsoka put a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck. May the Force be with you.”

Zyon nodded, then leaped up to grab onto one of the girders leading across the pit. It held his weight thankfully, and Zyon began to traverse the maze of girders. Finding a spot where he had enough clearance, Zyon pulled himself on top of the girder and moved along in a crouch.

Hondo and Syr followed him, taking the same route Zyon did. It was a bit harder for Syr because of his larger stature, but the Nikto did alright. Ahsoka waited on her side of the gap, staying alert for rakghouls and in the case of one of her friends falling.

Zyon reached the end of one girder and jumped across to another one. The girder buckled as he landed and Zyon was almost thrown off, but he maintained his balance somehow as the girder restabilized. “This one’s shady. Try to find another path,” Zyon called back to Hondo and Syr.

Syr attempted a jump to another girder, but without the Force he wasn’t able to jump nearly as far as Zyon was. He somehow managed to grab the edge, but the Nikto gave a shout of pain as the metal sliced open his leathery hand. With the clearance ahead of him getting lower, Syr had to resort to advancing hand over hand along the girder’s bottom.

Hondo took a different path, balancing along and jumping from girder to girder. He even swung across a large gap in between girders using an old piece of rebar that jutted out of a chunk of duracrete.

Zyon managed to reach the other side and dropped onto semi-solid ground. The penthouse remained stable though and Ahsoka sent a feeling of relief through their bond, which she felt him receive happily. 

Hondo made it over about a minute later. “That made me feel like I was young again! Wouldn’t want to do it again though.”

Syr grunted as he hung beneath a girder. The blood flowing from the wound on his hand made the metal slick and he struggled to keep his grip. He reached over to try to grab another handhold, but his hand gave way. Syr fell with a shout, his arms flailing above him for anything to break his fall.

Ahsoka and Zyon both immediately gathered the Force around them and locked in on Syr’s falling form. They reached out with the Force and stopped his fall, catching him with a massive invisible hand. The unseen hand brought Syr up against gravity to the other side of the gap where Hondo grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the ledge he and Zyon stood on.

Ahsoka let go of her Force grip on Syr and sent a message to Zyon.  _ “I’m on my way.” _

She felt him acknowledge it before she leaped up, grabbing the starting girder. Shimmying along the edge, Ahsoka swung herself up onto the top and took off, stepping lightly and dancing from girder to girder. Her extensive training in the fourth form of lightsaber combat, known as Ataru, focused on agility and speed. That benefitted her here and Ahsoka made much faster progress than her compatriots.

In fact, Ahsoka would have made it across in half the time it took Zyon had the report of a blaster not rung out from below them and the girder on which Ahsoka ran been severed by the contained plasma of a blaster bolt.

**-0-**

Ayllis saw the big outsider fall from her perch in the vents. Even though she didn’t care much for these outsiders, even she did not wish the fate that would befall falling into that shithole. Ayllis nearly had years ago and she had almost died.

She blinked, not believing the sight before her eyes. The outsider’s fall had stopped. She looked closely for a rope or a cord or something that could have arrested the fall, but she saw nothing there. It was then that Ayllis noticed the human outsider and the outsider with the blue and white pointy things on her head had their arms outstretched in the direction of the big one.

Did they have the same ability as the nekghouls?

The falling outsider rose up to the other side, grabbing the hands of the human and the smaller spiky-faced one. The pointy headed female outsider swung herself up and danced across the chasm. She moved with a level of swiftness and grace that Ayllis had never seen before.

Her comlink crackled and Ayllis heard the garbled discussion of the other interlopers, but one word was clear as day.

“Fire.”

A blaster roared from the edge of the sea of waste and the female outsider gave a shout as her footing fell out beneath her. She fell, but managed to grab hold of a cable and swung herself up to a different girder.

Ayllis herself swung out of the vent and ran to a piece of cover by the precipice, looking down and over in the direction of the short cliffs that made up the edge of the waste sea. There were a few speeders there and about a dozen men or so that she could make out with her macrobinoculars.

There was a  _ thwunk _ as a harpoon imbedded itself into the side of the skyscraper ruins on the other side of the chasm. Multiple other  _ thwunks _ sounded as other harpoons followed suit. The structure shuddered slightly, but the female outsider managed to keep her balance and flipped across to the opposite side. Ayllis turned her attention back to the interlopers on the cliffedge.

_ They won’t get to use those. _ Ayllis thought to herself with a smirk. She could see the swarm of rakghouls descending on the intruders. Blaster bolts flew everywhere, dropping some rakghouls but failing to stem the tide.

They were easily overwhelmed. Limbs were ripped off and flesh was shredded as the rakghouls tore into the interlopers. Some were dragged away, flailing and screaming.

They never stood a chance. 

Two managed to escape, clambering up the harpoon lines they had fired into the skyscraper. She could handle those two with ease. She turned her attention back to the melee on the shore.

Ayllis’ breath caught in her throat as the nekghoul strode through the carnage and turned its head. It stared straight at her, its gaze boring its way into hers through the macrobinoculars. It shifted its focus to the other side of the skyscraper, the penthouse where the outsiders were.

The nekghoul roared and a few rakghouls started climbing hand-over-hand up the harpoon cables the dead interlopers had set up, chasing after the fleeing men.

Ayllis could go back to her hideout in the vents. Wait for the rakghouls to take out the outsiders and leave the treasure for her. But what if the outsiders defeated the rakghouls? What if they escaped with the riches? Ayllis would be no better off than before and an entire day would be wasted!

She made her choice.

Ayllis jumped up, making her way across the chasm. She’d have to work fast if she was to escape with both her life and her future.

**-0-**

They stood in the ruined throne room that once belonged to Davik Kang. Time had not aged it well. The walls were dirty and scored, the once regal purple styling faded into obscurity. Ruined pictures and artworks littered the walls and floor and wind howled through a blast hole in what was once the ceiling.

“We don’t have much time to work,” Ahsoka said. “Whoever shot at me has strung up harpoon cables and is probably on their way.”

Syr nodded, his hand bandaged by Zyon. “Sanfol’s map leads us here, and notes scribbled on it indicate that the treasure is located in a safe under the ground floor. There’s a clue here… ‘Shake the hand to unscrew the cap. The fastest swoop paves the way.’”

Hondo scanned the wall before them. Statues and sculptures littered the ground, but Hondo ignored them. It appeared to be a wall now, but because of the penthouse’s sideways and twisted orientation the wall Hondo scrutinized had once been the floor. “There’s only one place it could be. One place that would prevent anyone from accidentally discovering the entrance.” Hondo pointed at the ruin that was once Davik Kang’s throne. From that chair, he had once ruled over Taris with an iron fist.

“Shake the hand to unscrew the cap,” Ahsoka said the riddle aloud, puzzling it in her mind.

“Syr, was Kang right or left handed?” Zyon questioned.

“All pictures showed him as being right-handed, why?”

Zyon walked over to underneath the throne. “Mind giving me a boost?”

Ahsoka gathered the Force around her and lifted Zyon in the air. He grabbed the throne and hoisted himself up. “Shake the hand. A hand connects to an arm, and to shake a hand you grab it. If Kang was right handed… there might be a switch or something on the right arm of this chair.”

Zyon fiddled with the right arm of the chair for a minute, then gave a shout of triumph. His shout was quickly followed by a cry of alarm as the throne shot forward, twisting as if unscrewing itself from the ground. Zyon fell from the throne and hit the wall-floor with a crash.

Ahsoka knelt down next to him. “You alright?”

Zyon groaned. “I’ll be feeling that in the morning.” His response elicited a small smile and a chuckle from Ahsoka.

“Well whatever you did has opened a passageway of some sort. Look!” Syr pointed at the throne, which now clung to the side of a horizontal pedestal that jutted out. A dark cavity opened in the center.

Ahsoka gathered the Force around her and jumped up. She grabbed the edges of the cavity, pulling herself inside to find a ladder that was now useless due to the tunnel’s orientation. Informing the others of what she found, Ahsoka pushed down into the tunnel, coming out in a small room. There was enough room for Ahsoka to stand comfortably and she was joined by the others in a couple minutes. Across from them was the door to what had to be a vault.

“We need to enter a code of some kind here,” Ahsoka said, scrutinizing the lock. Because the vault had been in a sealed chamber, it was still in pristine condition.

“The clue said ‘The fastest swoop paves the way.’” Syr said. “That has to have something to do with swoop bikes.”

Hondo’s face lit up. “Isn’t it true that Taris was once renowned for its swoop races?”

Syr nodded. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“What was the record for the Tarisian swoop tracks?”

Recognition of where Hondo was going with this dawned on Syr’s face. “It was said that Kang was a fan of swoop racing. Hold on,” he pulled out his datapad, scrolling through copious amounts of data at a speed Ahsoka doubted she would be able to read. “The fastest recorded time before Taris was destroyed was held by a Black Vulkar racer named Redros. His record was 38.43 seconds.”

Ahsoka punched in the aurabesh letter ‘R’, then his time on the track. The lock did nothing. “This thing is so old the lock doesn’t work anymore. Anyone bring a power pack?”

“Stand aside,” Zyon said, unclipping his lightsaber and igniting it.

Zyon shoved the amethyst blade into the door, carving a hole for them. It took minutes for the blade to cut through the thick vault door, but eventually the molten metal fell away to leave a hole they could clamber through.

“Why didn’t we think of that in the first place?” Hondo said with humor in his voice. He stepped through the hole and stopped, gazing at what lay before them. Ahsoka stepped in behind him, her eyes widening at the sight. “Woah…”

**-0-**

Ayllis crouched in the tunnel the outsiders had revealed, her blaster in hand pointed before her. The two surviving interlopers had made it up to the skyscraper, but they found no refuge here. Instead they lay on the ground, stunned by a blaster.

Hopefully they would distract the rakghouls long enough for her to escape.

She could hear the conversation of the outsiders inside the vault. “How much do we have?”

She heard the female next. “We won’t be able to take it all in one go. Not unless you get the ship to hover over here and we pass it out.”

“Could work, but what about the people that shot at you? I don’t want to leave the two of you to face them if they get here. I’d hate it if something happened to you while we were gone.”

“I can handle myself, Zyon.”

“He’s right though. One of us would have to fly the ship and the other would get the stuff inside.”

“It would take us a while to get back to the ships and then more time to fly over. You sure we want to do that?”

They were distracted by conversation. Good. Distractions meant that they wouldn’t see or hear her coming. Ayllis checked her blaster. She had more than enough shots to take out all four.

Ayllis advanced swiftly and silently, holding short at the opening into the vault room. She saw the outsiders standing just outside a hole carved into the side of the vault. Four duffel bags lay at their feet, filled to the brim with aurodium and jewelry of many different colors. Ayllis launched herself out of the tunnel with a shout and rolled upon landing to a crouched position. She snapped a couple shots at the largest of the outsiders, who cried out in alarm and pain as he fell back.

Movement registered in her peripheral vision and Ayllis spun, firing in an arc at the female outsider who somehow managed to flip out of the way into cover. 

A blaster bolt flew by Ayllis’ head as she pivoted to face the other two, and she dove backwards. There was a  _ snap-hiss _ and she saw the dark-skinned human outsider brandishing some weird weapon. It looked like a sword made of purple light, and it hummed as he held it in a guard position before him.

She opened fire, but the human moved his blade quickly, deflecting all of her blaster bolts into the floor, walls, or ceiling. She continued firing, trying to overwhelm him with the sheer amount of fire. The human stood his ground, the blade never moving more than he needed to move it. His hand shot forward and Ayllis felt herself flying backwards into the wall.

**-0-**

Ahsoka broke from cover as soon as Zyon hit their attacker with a Force Push. The female human got to her hands and knees, but Ahsoka reached her and kicked the blaster pistol out of her hand. Whipping out her vibroblade, Ahsoka rested the point on the underside of the human’s chin, lifting her gaze to meet Ahsoka’s.

“Who are you? Why’d you attack us?”

Green eyes stared defiantly into blue. “Go on. Do it! Kill me already!”

Ahsoka tilted her head in confusion. “Why would we want to kill you? I don’t even know you.”

“Why do you care?” the woman snarled back. “End this.”

Zyon walked up behind her. “Syr will be okay. Caught him in the side, but hit nothing but meat.”

“Luckily for you, you didn’t kill our friend so we’re not going to hurt you,” Ahsoka turned back to the woman. “Why would you ever want us to?”

The woman shrugged, but her eyes spoke volumes. Failure and sadness swam in them, but the woman attempted to hide it by smoking them with anger. “Everyone else I’ve run into has tried to kill me.”

“We’re not like everyone else,” Ahsoka said, removing her vibroblade from the woman’s neck. “Now I’ll ask again, who are you?”

The woman stared deeply into Ahsoka’s eyes, searching for some hint of malice or duplicity in them. She found none. Sighing and looking down, her shoulders slumped as she spoke. “My name is Ayllis Felhun. I’ve been stranded on this planet for around a dozen rotations...”

The woman, Ayllis, told them everything. Her ordeal as a slave to pirates, her escape and subsequent struggle to survive in the hostile Tarisian wilderness. She told them why she had been trailing them this whole time: her desire to get enough money to finally leave Taris and find her missing family.

Everything poured out of Ayllis… all her pent-up anger, fear, and despair. Anger at the galaxy for putting her in this situation. Fear of being stuck on Taris forever. Despair of dying alone and forgotten. Her breath was shaky as she finished and tears ran from her eyes.

Ahsoka turned to Zyon and Hondo, who was helping Syr walk. “What do we do with her?” Zyon asked.

“We can’t kill her. But I can’t leave her here either. After all she’s been through… I can’t do that,” Ahsoka said, shaking her head.

“But if we take her with us, there’s no telling if she’ll betray us,” Zyon said, casting a wary eye at Ayllis. “She could be playing the sympathy card.”

“That didn’t stop you from taking me in,” Ahsoka said.

“You were unconscious and heavily injured when I found you,” Zyon said with a smirk on his face. “You also didn’t try to kill me when we first met.”

Hondo cut into the conversation. “I’ve dealt with situations like this before. What we need to do is give her enough incentive to not betray us. Give her what she wants.”

“And what do you think that is?” Zyon questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“We give her a ride off this planet first and foremost. Then, we give her a place to belong.” Hondo smiled. “Giving someone meaningful things will reduce the chance that they’ll turn on you.”

Syr smiled at Hondo. “Didn’t expect wisdom from you, Hondo. Some extra help on my ship would be useful.”

They broke apart, forming a semicircle around Ayllis. Syr tilted his head as he asked her. “You any good with repairing technology?”

“I had to get good at it in order to eat,” Ayllis responded. “You won’t find much working tech in ruins like these.”

“How’d you like to come with us?” Syr asked. “I can give you work on my freighter as a member of my crew.”

She stared warily at him. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t,” Syr shrugged. “The choice is yours. I can give you a clean, peaceful place to live with meaningful work.”

“And what,” Ayllis sneered at him, “you expect me to believe you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart? I just shot you!”

Syr shrugged. “You have skills that would be useful on my ship. We each have something the other wants.”

“And what do you have that I want?”

“A chance to leave. The means to get off this planet and actually do something instead of worrying about surviving the day.”

Ayllis was silent, and Ahsoka could feel the turmoil inside of the older woman. She could feel Ayllis’ desperation to leave Taris clashing with her self-preservation instinct. Having spent so much time fending for herself, it was understandable that she would struggle letting her walls down to trust someone.

Ahsoka motioned to the open vault behind them. “Go ahead, grab some loot to take with us. You said that’s why you were following us.”

Ayllis’ eyes suddenly snapped open in alarm. “There’s no time! The nekghoul-”

She was cut off by two human screams outside. They were agonized cries of pain, followed by an animalistic below.

Ayllis turned her attention back from the tunnel to them, eyes wide in fear. Her terrified voice came quietly, almost a whisper. “They’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies about the slight cliffhanger, it just seemed the best place to end the chapter right now without an even greater delay. I'll try to get the next chapter out quicker than it took this one, but I can't make any promises.


	11. Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka, Zyon, Syr, and Hondo have found the treasure of Davik Kang, but their escape has been cut off by the vicious rakghouls native to Taris. Their struggle to escape and cash in on the treasure will put their lives in mortal danger and kickstart a scheme that could change the face of the galaxy.

_"Do not see every enemy as an enemy. See them instead as an ally, whether they know it or not."_ \- Kreia

**-000-**

Zyon poked his head out of the entrance to Davik Kang’s vault. Below them were a few of the monsters that he had seen earlier in the rest of the ruined skyscraper. In the middle of them were the eviscerated remains of two mercenaries that he had no clue where they had come from.

The other oddity that Zyon could see was a monster even bigger than the normal rakghouls. Ayllis had mentioned something called a nekghoul, likely what that thing was.

He crouched back into the tunnel, turning to face Ahsoka. No chance of us sneaking past them, and I doubt they’ll leave us here alone. I sense that they’re aware of our presence.

Ahsoka frowned, and then nodded. Her mouth curled into a slight smile. “Guns blazing?”

Zyon smiled back. “You know me so well.”

With that, Zyon returned to the opening. Gripping his lightsaber in one hand, he launched himself out with a shout. Rolling to his feet, he ignited the lightsaber. The violet blade hummed to life and cleaved the first rakghoul in two.

Ahsoka hit the ground next to him, lifting one of the rakghouls into the air where it was shot by Syr’s blasterfire. She drew her vibroblade and twirled it, carving through the rotted flesh of another rakghoul.

One charged at Zyon, swiping at him with its sharp, poisoned claws. Zyon tracked the course of both the claw and the rakghoul itself, the Force projecting their trajectories into his mind’s eye. Zyon ducked in and sidestepped, flicking his lightsaber up to cleave the rakghoul’s entire hand off at the wrist. A quick flick of the wrist brought the lightsaber through the rakghoul’s neck, and the pale fleshy head fell to the floor.

Suddenly Zyon’s senses flared with imminent danger. Just as he whirled to face it, he was thrown off his feet by a massive blast of Force energy. He slammed into a wall which was once the ceiling of Davik Kang’s penthouse. Who could have hit him? It hadn’t been Ahsoka, he hadn’t sensed it coming from her, and he hadn’t sensed any Force sensitivity coming from Ayllis.

That left only one option, and as he looked towards it he saw Ahsoka stagger, having thrown up a mental shield against the nekghoul’s telekinetic attack.

“Now even monsters can use your crazy floaty powers?” Hondo yelled as he fired off a burst of blaster fire at the remaining rakghouls, cutting them down and leaving the nekghoul to stand alone. 

Realizing this, the nekghoul changed tactics. Throwing Hondo, Syr, and Ayllis with the Force, it removed their long range attacks and forced Ahsoka and Zyon to get in close, where the nekghoul would be able to use its longer reach to its advantage.

But it also seemed to know that Zyon’s lightsaber could do some serious damage. Reaching a hand behind it, it tore panels from the walls and threw them at the two former Jedi.

The penthouse groaned as the supports keeping it suspended above the toxic sea began to buckle from the nekghoul tearing them away. The floor shuddered as Zyon cut through a particularly large girder thrown his way when he heard Ahsoka yelp.

The nekghoul had gotten in close while she had been distracted by avoiding the debris thrown at it. It grabbed her by the throat and lifted the togruta off her feet.

Ahsoka kicked out and stabbed her vibroblade into the nekghoul’s side. It dropped her as it roared in pain, allowing Ahsoka to roll out of harm’s way. She made it to Zyon’s side and a plan passed between the mental link they had.

Yelling for the others to join them, Zyon and Ahsoka grabbed the debris that littered the floor of the penthouse, including the stuff the nekghoul had ripped out and flung at them. Combining their strength, Zyon and Ahsoka threw the debris at the nekghoul, which was charging after Hondo, Syr, and Ayllis.

Girders impaled the creature, halting it in its tracks. Panels smacked into it, some shattering, others staying intact. The force behind the strikes brought the nekghoul down to its knees.

Zyon turned to the others. “Grab the goods and run!”

They grabbed the bags filled with Davik Kang’s treasure and took off running for the escape as the penthouse began to tilt. Metal groaned as it twisted and warped and there was the ping of rivets shooting out of their places. 

Hondo and Syr made it to the chasm. Ahsoka and Zyon, not having time to levitate them across, launched a Force push that sent the two flying up and out over the toxic waste pit. Hondo landed and rolled to his feet, laughing and yelling out that he wanted to do it again.

Ahsoka and Zyon each picked up the bags they had filled and leaped, augmenting their jumps with the Force. They each landed softly on the other side, unlike the hard tumble that Syr had taken into some debris.

Zyon turned to see Ayllis standing at the edge as the penthouse shifted and tilted more. She was looking in between them and the entrance to Davik Kang’s vault. Ahsoka yelled over to her. “You’ll never make it back in time! Jump!”

Zyon could feel Ayllis’ turmoil. She didn’t trust the four outsiders who offered her a way off the planet and he could feel the desire in her to reach the treasure and scavenge as much of it as she could. But he also could feel that she knew she would die if she stayed behind.

Ayllis took a couple steps towards the vault, causing Ahsoka to cry out in alarm. But in one fluid motion, Ayllis pivoted on one foot and ran up the steep incline to the gap. She jumped, a leap of faith placing her life in the hands of Zyon and Ahsoka.

The two grabbed the red-haired scavenger with the Force as she leaped, but her foot slipped as the angle of the floor of the penthouse steepened even further. They pulled, dragging the flailing woman against gravity until her arms fell right into their hands.

“Got you!” Ahsoka yelled as the penthouse broke off fully and plunged down into the sickly green pit.

**-0-**

Ahsoka sighed as her and Zyon’s speeder glided to a halt outside their ship. It had been a long day and Ahsoka looked forward to nothing more than a shower to get rid of all the grime from traversing the dilapidated ruins and a nice long nap to refresh herself.

Still despite her exhaustion, she smiled as she lugged the duffel bag up the loading ramp. They had found Davik Kang’s treasure and, while they hadn’t retrieved everything the ancient crime lord had once owned, they had scored a sizable haul. Sizable enough to keep them in business for quite a while.

Syr had already departed, Ayllis tagging along with him. Ahsoka smiled, remembering how the scavenger’s face lit up upon seeing the freighter, knowing that she was finally leaving Taris for good. Free from the rakghouls. Free from the bounds of gravity at last.

In the last transmission Syr had sent before going into hyperspace, he had informed them that Ayllis and him were off to Kessel. The wily Nikto had contacts everywhere, including one in the administration of the spice mines that dotted the cursed heap of rock. With any luck, Ayllis’ brother would still be there.

In the meantime, Ahsoka, Zyon, and Hondo sat in the common area of his freighter, planning their next move. “We have a sizeable haul,” Ahsoka said, gesturing to the bags lying secured in the smuggler’s compartment of the cargo bay. “But the treasure itself gets us nowhere.”

Zyon nodded. “Hard to buy anything with aurodium. We need a broker to transform it all into credits.”

“Fear not my soon to be rich friends!” Hondo smiled widely. “Old Hondo knows the best in the business for handling lost treasures.”

“Please tell me we’re not dealing with a Hutt.” Ahsoka groaned, a statement with which Zyon’s expression clearly indicated agreement.

“Have no fear, Ahsoka,” Hondo said, placing a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Do you really think your old friend Hondo would sell you out after we’ve accomplished so much?”

“Yes,” was Zyon’s reply, one which Ahsoka found herself smirking and shaking her head at. “Now who is your dealer?”

“He’s a Muun, Brar Sib. He set up shop in Sundari on Mandalore a year or two ago. Since Mandalore declared itself neutral in the Clone Wars, all sorts of independent traders come and go looking to deal their wares with someone not affiliated with either the Republic or Separatists. All transactions are confidential, and he has very reasonable prices.”

“Sounds like our man,” Zyon said. 

He turned to Ahsoka, who merely shrugged. “I don’t have any better recommendations. What’s the situation on Mandalore though?” The latest information she had was from Master Kenobi’s report that Maul had overthrown Duchess Satine Kryze’s government. But then Maul had disappeared, and his Shadow Collective had fought Mandalorian rebels ever since, turning the streets of Sundari into a warzone.

“As contentious as ever,” Hondo responded. “Skirmishes rage every now and then, but as long as we keep our heads down we should avoid any unwanted attention.”

“I might be a liability though if I come along,” Ahsoka said. “I’ve been to Mandalore before and encountered Death Watch once. They might recognize me and blow our cover.”

“That does pose a problem,” Zyon said, stroking his chin in thought. “You could stay on the ship if you wanted, to make sure that nobody takes it or strands us in Sundari.”

Hondo shook his head. “More likely to be recognized there. The longer you wait in one place, the more likely someone is to notice you, even inside a ship. They’ll detect you and investigate a lifesign for sure. Besides, if something does go down on the way, two Jedi are better than one.”

“Wear a cloak and hide your face the best you can,” Zyon offered. “That’s all I can come up with.”

“It’ll have to do,” Ahsoka responded with a shrug. “Take us in.”

**-0-**

About a standard Coruscant day later, Sundari traffic control picked up the signature of an unknown incoming ship. Kom’rk-class starfighters scrambled and intercepted the ship, which they identified to be a old, battered Corellian light stock freighter.

“Incoming Corellian freighter, this is Sundari Spaceport,” the controller said. “You’re not on our schedule for arrivals. Maintain your course and state your intentions.”

An eccentric alien voice responded over the comm, causing the controller to groan in frustration. Yet more filthy offworlders and aliens coming in to sully Sundari’s streets. “Greetings Sundari control! We are an independent venture from the Outer Rim looking to sell our merchandise in the Merchant District near the docks.”

At least they didn’t want to enter the city itself. Most offworlders remained near the docks doing who knew what. Their business didn’t bother the controller, as long as they stayed out of Sundari itself. “Very well, transmitting clearance to Landing Bay L-17. Stand by for inspection once you land.”

“Understood,” the alien said, his voice ever so chipper. “On course for L-17. We welcome your inspection party. We have nothing to hide!”

Miles above the ground, the occupants of the freighter breathed a sigh of relief as the starfighters veered off from their intercept positions. Hondo turned to his two partners. “Think you’ll be able to handle the inspection crew with your Jedi magic?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Ahsoka said with a smirk on her face.

The minutes ticked by as Zyon maneuvered the freighter through the traffic of Sundari spaceport, finally touching down in Bay L-17 to find two armed Port Authority officials waiting for them.

Hondo led the way down the loading ramp, his usual smile and cheery demeanor on his face. “Hello my friends, what can I do for you?”

One of the officials, who looked little more than a thug, scoffed. “Just stand by while we inspect your ship for any… contraband.”

“You think I’m a smuggler!” Hondo yelled, indignation filling his voice. “I resent such an accusation! Is this how you treat every merchant that comes to your planet?”

While Hondo distracted the officials, Ahsoka, hidden out of sight of them, delved into the Force, feeling their minds through it and searching for the critical point in their brains. “You have found nothing wrong on the ship.”

One of the officials said to his partner. “We’ve found nothing out of place on the ship.”

“They can go about their business.”

“You can go about your business,” the other official said to Hondo. With that, the two left the landing bay.

A minute passed and when nobody else entered, Ahsoka and Zyon emerged from hiding. “Good work, my dear. I wish I had the power to do that. Think of all the favorable deals I could make!” Hondo laughed with a smile.

Ahsoka shook her head with a groan. “Jedi Pirate Hondo is probably the last thing this galaxy needs.”

“Come on,” Zyon said, his face hardening a bit. “We got a drop to make and I don’t want to stay here for longer than we have to.”

“Agreed,” Ahsoka said, pulling the hood of her cloak up over her head. “You know where we’re headed, Hondo. Lead the way.”

Hondo led them through twisting streets, filled with venders, aliens, and people from offworld trading goods in the Merchant District. They weren’t in Sundari itself, which would aid in getting their business accomplished without incident, but even here the signs of the Mandalorian Civil War were visible. Carbon scoring peppered the walls where blaster bolts had impacted. Some buildings were bombed out or burned down.

The residents just went on about their business as usual, not letting the political conflict interfere with their profits. But to someone in tune with the Force, there was a nervous edge to everyone around. Something was brewing, something that the group of three didn’t want to still be around when it broke loose.

Hondo led them down a sidestreet, leaving the noise, hustle, and bustle behind them. A plain, innocuous door greeted them. Hondo knocked and a camera activated from the corner of the doorframe, speaking in some language that neither Ahsoka nor Zyon recognized. Hondo answered in the same tongue, and after a retort that felt almost antagonistic towards the Weequay pirate, the door unlocked and slid open to allow them entry.

Zyon voiced the concern both he and Ahsoka were feeling. “Hondo, what was that about?”

“Security, my friend. Ever since Brar cut ties with the Banking Clan, he has been fearful of reprisals and we showed up unannounced.”

“That won’t be a problem, will it?” Ahsoka asked.

“Not at all,” Hondo replied. “We must simply surrender our weapons upon entry.” At Zyon’s defiant look, Hondo placated. “But as you both know, a Jedi is never unarmed. And just let me do the talking.”

They walked into a dimly lit room, a perfect place to be ambushed, but neither Ahsoka nor Zyon’s senses indicated a trap of any kind. A guard materialized out of the darkness, holding out a hand. Ahsoka, Hondo, and Zyon all unholstered blasters and vibroblades. Ahsoka noticed that Zyon didn’t hand over his lightsaber, but said nothing. The guard scanned each of their bags, and when he was satisfied, spoke into a comlink.

On the other side, a door opened into a brighter room, and they entered to find a tall skinny Muun sitting behind an opulent desk. “Hondo Ohnaka,” he said, his voice sounding like gravel crunching underfoot. “To what do I owe the pleasure of doing business with you?”

“We recently came into possession of some ancient relics and treasures,” Hondo explained, gesturing to the sacks they brought with them.

“And you wish to exchange them to me for credits in return?” Brar finished with a nod. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement. Let’s see the merchandise."

They opened their bags under the watchful eyes of Brar’s bodyguards, and then placed them before him to examine. Brar reached in and pulled out the aurodium ingots and statuettes. “By the Force, these must be thousands of years old!” Brar exclaimed, glancing over at them with a questioning eye. “Where did you discover these?

“It is a long story, my friend,” Hondo said. “Have you ever heard of Davik Kang?”

As Hondo told the story of how Ahsoka and Zyon had come to him for help with their plan and then the stories of the adventures made along the way to find the treasure, Brar listened while he inspected the contents of the duffel bags. When all was said and done, Brar gave the Muun equivalent of a whistle.

“What you have brought me… is worth millions of credits. You’re sure that this is all that will ever be found?” Brar asked.

Zyon answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Unless you have an environmental suit and a death wish, yes.”

“A shame,” Brar’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “I would very much have liked to have seen what else was in Kang’s treasure vault. But it is of no matter.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “So what’s your offer?”

Brar leaned forward, his hands folded before him on his desk. “The aurodium ingots you have brought me, I can immediately convert into credits for you. They’re worth approximately five million Republic credits.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened as she whistled. “That’s… a lot.”

Hondo laughed at her expression. “I doubt you ever saw that much money with the Jedi. This is why you should’ve been a pirate!”

“Yeah yeah, very funny Hondo,” she rolled her eyes and grumbled.

Brar’s face had adopted a questioning look. He asked Ahsoka. “You are Jedi?”

“Once, not anymore,” Ahsoka responded. “And I’d rather not talk about that subject.”

“Very well,” Brar said, leaning back in his seat.

Zyon changed the topic, eying the artwork that had swiped from Kang’s vault before the rakghouls showed up. “What about all of that?”

“Pieces like this,” Brar picked up an old marble statuette of a Twi’lek dancer, examining it, “vary in price depending on how much collectors will buy them for. Because of that, I can’t pay you immediately for them.”

“So they go on auction and you pay us what the buyer pays for them?” Zyon asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yes,” Brar answered. “I take a 15% cut of every auction transaction and transfer the remainder into your accounts. Standard procedure.”

Zyon leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the desk. His voice was low. “How do I know you’ll pay up.”

“You have my word,” the Muun answered calmly. “Financial transactions among my people are held in an almost sacred respect. Think of it this way, if I was, hypothetically, to refuse to pay you what you are owed, then you would speak out. My reputation would be tarnished, and my status as a Muun of integrity would disappear.”

Hondo placed a placating hand on Zyon’s shoulder, pulling him back gently. “I’ve known Brar for a while, and I have never known him to be a dishonest business partner. I may be a backstabbing, treacherous pirate, but Brar has gained my respect.”

Brar gestured to Ahsoka, who was leaning casually against a wall by now. “Plus I do not wish to make enemies with an ex-Jedi. I have nothing to hide.”

Ahsoka closed her eyes, letting the Force flow around her, and she touched the Muun’s mind, searching for any hint of dishonesty or treachery. She smiled. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Good,” Brar said, typing into a datapad. “Now let me just transfer the correct amount of credits into your chosen account and our business here shall be concluded.”

As he did so, Ahsoka let her conscious wander to their surroundings, then to the Merchant District nearby. Her smile turned into a frown. The place had fallen silent of the bustling lifeforms going to and fro. Instead, she felt death and could almost hear blaster bolts.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked over at Zyon, who was looking at her. They had each felt it. Zyon turned to Hondo and Brar. “We need to get back to the ship now.”

**-0-**

Captain Gar Saxon stood in the street, flanked by his Mandalorian Super Commandos. The raid had gone near perfectly. A resistance safehouse in the Merchant Quarter had been discovered and cleared with minimal casualties, and intel had been discovered that brought him ever so much closer to finding the elusive Bo-Katan Kryze and her karking Nite Owls. The fools inside the safehouse had put up pitiful resistance to his attack, and it made every bone in Saxon’s body seethe with anger that these cowards had hounded the Shadow Collective for as long as they had. Saxon longed for the day that he would be able to chase Kryze to ground and kill her himself. It would be a good fight, Kryze was a worthy adversary, and Lord Maul had promised that Saxon would be the one to which that honor would fall.

Until that day when he’d squeeze the life from Kryze’s body, Gar Saxon would continue to do what he must, which today meant processing these pathetic excuses for Mandalorians and locking them up in Sundari prison.

His helmet picked up movement in his peripheral vision and he turned to find three armed offworlders coming out of a back alley. Smugglers supplying Kryze’s resistance movement, perhaps?

He and several other warriors immediately trained their weapons on the offworlders. “Halt!” Saxon yelled, walking towards them, blaster held at rest across his chest, ready to point and fire at a moment’s notice. “Let’s see some identification.”

Two of the offworlders looked at each other, the small female wearing a hooded cloak, and a dark-skinned human male. The male stepped forward and Saxon saw his hand wave slightly before him. “You don’t need to see our identification,” the male said in a calm, steady voice.

Saxon frowned, his mind feeling strained, as if something was trying to force its way in. “I don’t… no…” Saxon grit out through his teeth as he shook off the pressure from his mind. He snapped his rifle around, muzzle pointing directly into the human’s face. “Place your hands above your heads now. All of you!”

The cloaked female sighed and said softly. “Oh well, worth a try.”

She thrust her hands forward and Saxon found himself and the other warriors flying backwards away from the offworlders. Blasterfire erupted from the other warriors, accompanied by a _snap-hiss_. Saxon came to his knees, seeing the human male deflecting blasterfire with a violet lightsaber while his companions fired off blasters as they retreated. 

_A Jedi, huh?_ Saxon thought to himself. _About time I had a good fight._

He toggled his comlink as he got to his feet, engaging his jetpack as the Jedi turned and fled after his companions. “Inform Lord Maul that we’ve encountered a Jedi in the Merchant Quarter. I’m in pursuit. … No, I do not yet need assistance. I will defeat the Jedi myself.”

**-0-**

From high above the Merchant Quarter, another warrior watched the chaos unfold. Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, former member of Death Watch and trusted Lieutenant to its leader Pre Vizsla, had led a resistance movement for months against the usurper Maul, waiting for the aid that Jedi Master Kenobi had promised from the Republic. Aid that had yet to arrive.

Such as it was, the sight of a violet lightsaber was a surprise to Bo-Katan. A lightsaber being used with that amount of skill surely meant Jedi. Perhaps one had been sent to do reconnaissance on Sundari and report back?

But the Jedi’s companion… Bo-Katan recognized her from somewhere. With the cloak long since discarded, Bo-Katan was able to identify her as togruta… but those montrals, she recognized those. It was the Jedi that had infiltrated Death Watch posing as that Bonteri kid’s betrothed. The togrutan Jedi was a competent fighter, she had proved that much on Carlac. She would have been a worthy adversary for a Mandalorian such as Bo-Katan, but as of now, she and the other Jedi were the only chance Bo-Katan had of getting aid for Mandalore and freeing them from Maul’s grasp.

Signalling her two fellow Nite Owls, a male warrior named Deak Ordo and the female warrior Ursa Wren, Bo-Katan would stay in recon mode for now. She had a feeling this was about to get interesting.

**-0-**

By now, their cover had been well and truly blown and all Ahsoka could do was run as fast as she could. So far, all that was after them was a squad of Mandalorian warriors, but she knew that reinforcements would be quickly arriving. And once news that a Jedi had been spotted reached Maul… well, Ahsoka just hoped that they could reach Zyon’s freighter before he arrived.

Ahsoka knew of Maul through reputation only, and what she had learned of him from Master Kenobi was enough that her hairs would be standing on end. If togruta had hair that is! The former Sith apprentice had killed Obi-Wan’s old master and carved a path of destruction through the Outer Rim seeking to draw Obi-Wan out into battle. A confrontation that Obi-Wan had only survived with some timely and unexpected help from Asajj Ventress.

Ahsoka took point as she ran through the deserted streets of the Merchant Quarter, the spaceport slowly drawing closer. Hondo followed her, firing off a few shots at their pursuers every now and then, but the jetpacks the Mandos had gave them unrivaled agility in the air. Hondo was lucky if he scored a hit, and the beskar probably meant he wouldn’t even take the Mando out of the fight. Zyon brought up the rear, deflecting a couple blaster bolts or redirecting missiles, then cutting and running to catch back up. He managed to redirect one blaster bolt into the jetpack of one of their pursuers, sending the warrior veering off course, but there were still a good half-dozen coming.

As Ahsoka neared the spaceport, the two guards at the entrance nearest their ship raised blasters and yelled for her to halt. She smiled to herself as she did so, but raised her hand to catch both guards in the invisible net of the Force. They cried out in shock and panic fired at her, but their wild shots never came close. With a simple push, both guards impacted the ferrocrete wall behind them and fell limply to the ground, unconscious, but alive.

Hondo caught up to her, and Ahsoka pulled out both her blaster and vibroblade. “Get the ship up and running, then fly over and pick us up. We’ll hold them off out here.” Hondo nodded an affirmative and dashed into the spaceport to fire up the engines and make the freighter ready for an immediate departure.

Zyon skidded to a half beside her with a grin. “We seem to attract trouble everywhere we go, don’t we?”

“Story of my life,” Ahsoka quipped as their pursuers came in close. Years of action in the Clone Wars had led Ahsoka to evaluate the tactical merits of every location she found herself in, and it was now that tactical appraisal that caused her to make a stand outside the spaceport itself. The plaza Ahsoka and Zyon stood in offered a lot of space for movement. Sure, their opponents would be able to utilize their jetpacks, but those could be negated to a degree by the Force. 

If Maul did show up, the last place Ahsoka wanted to be in was a narrow hallway with little room to maneuver.

Their pursuers broke over the nearest rooftop and came to a halt, hovering above ground on their jetpacks. One of them descended to land before Ahsoka and Zyon. It was the leader from back near Brar’s place. He pointed at Zyon and drew a beskad from a holster on his back. “You! Jedi! I challenge you, one warrior to another.”

Zyon said nothing, but activated his lightsaber and assumed a fighting position. Through their bond, Ahsoka heard him say to remain out of the fight for now. Better for them to think there was only one Jedi. The other Mandalorians hovering overhead did nothing but keep their blasters aimed and ready, preventing either Ahsoka or Zyon from fleeing the area. 

Zyon charged the warrior, who adopted a defensive stance and blocked Zyon’s strikes with impressive skill, parrying some strikes and nearly scoring a hit on Zyon, who fell back to reset and analyze the Mandalorian’s style. The warrior charged, delivering a flurry of swift strikes that Zyon deflected with ease.

Zyon managed to slip under the warrior’s defense and rolled past him, scoring a hit on the warrior’s right leg. To his surprise, the Mandalorian just laughed at the blackened mark on his red armor. “It’ll take more than that to defeat a Mando’ade.”

Zyon grit his teeth and unleashed a hail of heavy blows against the warrior. Ahsoka took her attention off the others circling them, instead meditating, helping to keep Zyon centered and in control of his emotions, lest the heat of battle get him carried away and down the dark path again.

Zyon landed a kick on the warrior’s torso, knocking him back. The warrior held back momentarily before speaking. “You fight well Jedi. You have earned a warrior’s death, I promise you that.”

Zyon laughed in response. “Good thing I don’t intend on dying today.”

“We shall see,” the warrior ignited his jetpack and threw a concussion grenade that exploded close to Zyon’s face. He managed to throw up a shield quickly, but not quick enough to avoid getting knocked backwards onto the ground.

The warrior flew towards the stunned Zyon, beskad held straight to skewer him. Ahsoka leaped into action, grabbing the Mandalorian with the Force and pulling him off course. Whipping her vibroblade around, she slashed at the warrior, who deflected her attack and backed off, rising into the air slightly to back out of range. “Two Jedi, huh? I relish a challenge.”

“You’ll find I’m full of surprises,” Ahsoka said, leaping up with the Force aiming with her vibroblade towards the warrior’s jetpack in an attempt to repeat her move against the Death Watch leader back on Carlac.

As the red warrior dodged her leap, the sky erupted in blasterfire.

Before the Mandalorian super commandos could even react, three of them were hit by pinpoint blaster fire from above. Three Mandalorians in blue armor dove in on jetpacks, firing away at the red Mandalorian warriors who now fired back.

Ahsoka heard the warrior who had dueled Ahsoka and Zyon yell into a comlink. “Kryze is here! All reinforcements to the spaceport!”

At the same time, her own comlink was filled with Hondo’s voice. “The freighter is ready to go, Ahsoka.”

She responded, yelling over the blasterfire as she pulled Zyon behind some cover. “Hondo, lift off and take the ship to the roof of the spaceport, then open the ramp! We’ll jump on from there!”

Hondo gave an affirmative and Ahsoka turned to Zyon. “You ready to run?” She asked with a smirk.

“Absolutely,” Zyon smirked back, shaking himself off and getting to his feet.

The two summoned the Force around them and ran out into the plaza, dodging stray blasterfire as they went. Reaching a row of low buildings, they leaped up onto the low roofs, then augmenting their leg strength with the Force, jumped high in the air onto the spaceport wall. The freighter rose up before them at the end of the wall, ramp lowering to allow entry.

The two ran towards it. But the Force screamed a warning, and mere seconds later the wall underneath them exploded.

**-0-**

Captain Saxon watched the Jedi run out of cover, but there was little he could do, pinned down by Kryze and her traitors. They had come out of nowhere, and now over half of Saxon’s squad was down. The bitch needed to be taken care of soon, for she posed a thorn in their side, threatening to interfere in Lord Maul’s carefully laid plans.

The Jedi leaped up an impossible distance onto the spaceport roof. He had heard of such feats, but seeing them in action was impressive. Jedi were worthy adversaries for any Mando’ade.

A freighter appeared at the end, shields holding against point-laser cannon fire from the defense towers. It descended out of range of their guns, ramp lowered. Saxon knew what they were planning to do.

“No you don’t,” he said as he lowered his head, launching the missile on his jetpack. He watched with satisfaction as it detonated beneath the Jedi, crumbling the wall below them and causing both to fall to the ground in a cascade of rubble.

As the dust cleared, he grinned in satisfaction. The male, the one with the lightsaber, had an arm pinned under a huge chunk of ferrocrete. The female alien was shaken, moving slowly as if she was trying to get her bearings.

Saxon ran towards them. His squad could handle Kryze long enough for Saxon to disarm and capture the Jedi. Reinforcements, including Lord Maul himself, were approaching and it was only a matter of time before Kryze would be either captured or destroyed by overwhelming fire.

Today was a good day. Saxon would present Maul with not only two Jedi, but either a captured or dead Kryze as well. He would win great honor from doing so, and maybe one day take over from that fool Almec.

However, his perfect vision suddenly disappeared in the flash of an explosion right in front of him.

**-0-**

Ahsoka fell onto her side, montrals ringing incessantly from the close range explosion. She had managed to throw up a Force shield to absorb the shockwaves from the blast, but it did nothing against the two story drop. How she hadn’t been more seriously wounded was a miracle.

She saw the red Mandalorian charging towards her, but her head hurt to move. It was hopeless, she and Zyon had failed.

But miracles did happen.

The ground in front of the warrior exploded, and a Mandalorian female in blue armor landed before Ahsoka. Even in her dazed state, Ahsoka recognized her. The Mando female from Carlac! “You!”

The Mandalorian held out a hand, helping Ahsoka to her feet. “Luckily for you, Jedi, I am on your side.”

Ahsoka turned, noticing that Zyon’s lightsaber arm was crushed under a large chunk of ferrocrete. His face was pained, but he did not cry out.

A wave of darkness suddenly flowed over her. It was a feeling she had only felt when a dark sided Force user was near, like the Sith Assassin Ventress. But this darkness was even darker than Ventress, more… pure. She knew who it was. _Maul._

The Mandalorian picked up Zyon’s lightsaber as Hondo lowered the freighter down into the Plaza. They had to leave now. Ahsoka tried to lift the rubble off of Zyon, but Maul’s presence smothered her, making it hard to touch the Force. She turned to the Mandalorian. “Help me move it.”

“There’s no time,” the woman said as she ignited the purple blade. “Sorry kid.”

Zyon’s eyes snapped open and he and Ahsoka said in unison. “What are you-?” 

Zyon’s protest turned into a scream as the blue Mandalorian severed his crushed arm. “Let’s go!” She yelled, picking up Zyon and flying over to the freighter. Ahsoka chased after, her own right arm feeling limp. Two other blue Mandalorians stood on the ramp, providing covering fire until everyone got on board.

Without any further delay, Hondo closed the ramp and rocketed the freighter into the sky.

**-0-**

Gar Saxon hung his head as Maul approached. He had failed. The Jedi and Kryze, both escaped on that freighter. Maul watched it climb away as he stepped off the hoversled.

“I’m sorry, Lord Maul,” Saxon reported. “The Jedi and Kryze have all escaped.”

“Yes,” Maul responded, his voice a dry chuckle. “I can see that, Captain.”

“We can still catch them, my Lord,” Saxon proposed. “If we scramble fighters now we can intercept them and stop them before they get away for good!”

Maul’s simple response shocked Saxon. “No.”

“I… I’m sorry?”

“No,” Maul repeated calmly. “Let them go.”

“But my Lord if they are allowed to escape, the Republic will inevitably attack!”

“Your grasp of the obvious is admirable, Captain.” Maul said in that same dry chuckle. “You are to be commended, Saxon. Tell me, do you know who one of those Jedi was?”

“No, my Lord,” Saxon answered truthfully, unsure what was going through Maul’s horned head.

“One of the Jedi was the apprentice to… Skywalker. She will return soon, with Skywalker and… Kenobi alongside her.” Maul turned to face Saxon, and his red-yellow eyes burned with intensity. “My plan will come to fruition, and you will play a critical part. You will see to formulating plans for defense against the inevitable invasion. Do not fail me, Commander.”

With that, Maul turned away from the stunned Gar Saxon, now Commander of Shadow Collective forces in Sundari.

**-0-**

“I need your help Jedi.”

As soon as the Mandalorian removed her helmet, Ahsoka clocked her right in the face. “You shutta! What makes you think I would ever help you after what you pulled?”

The woman stood firm, facing the enraged togruta. “I did what needed to be done.”

“Crippling him was mandatory?” Ahsoka’s voice was at full pitch, and full of anger and rage.

“And if we had tried to save the arm, Maul would have arrived and killed us all.” Ahsoka faltered, the cold reasoning of the woman’s argument cracking through.

Hondo broke the silence. “We need to act now, Zyon’s gone into shock. He won’t last long.”

Ahsoka turned to him. “We have a kolto tank on board.”

The male Mandalorian spoke up, shaking his helmeted head. “No good. Kolto’s great for healing lacerations and burns, but a full amputation? He’s going to need bacta for that.”

Ahsoka turned back to Hondo. “Put him in anyways, it’ll help until we can reach a better equipped medbay.”

The other female Mandalorian offered a suggestion. “Our HQ is fully equipped, plus has access to prosthetics.”

“No use,” the red-haired Mandalorian shook her head, her cheek starting to bruise from Ahsoka’s punch. “The moment we re-enter Mandalorian space we’ll get torn to shreds by their Gauntlets. It’s a miracle we escaped at all.”

There was one option that Ahsoka had left, and like it or not, it was the only chance she had at saving Zyon’s life.

Ahsoka ran to the communications suite in the cockpit and keyed in a frequency that she had not used in ages. “This is Ahsoka Tano calling any nearby Republic ship. I need immediate medical help. Repeat, this is Ahsoka Tano…”

If the Force had a sense of humor, Ahsoka decided it had to be a cruel one. “Commander? Is that you?” It was the same voice she had heard from all over the Grand Army of the Republic, but despite the familiarity she recognized it instantly.

“Rex?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this chapter kind of took a while to post, huh? I can't really offer anything but the hope that what I have written can make up for the extremely long delay it took for me to get this done. I am so sorry it took so long, but I hope you all enjoyed it.


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